


Kevin & Wymack's Ultimate Road Trip Playlist

by actualkit



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst and Humor, Asperger's Kevin Day, Bisexual Kevin Day, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Other, POV Kevin, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Road Trips, my fics are not for incest shippers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 23,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualkit/pseuds/actualkit
Summary: At the end of the most eventful school year of their lives, Kevin is convinced to go on a road trip with Wymack to California and back.It's time to reflect on the very big elephants in the room, all while listening to some great music.





	1. Prologue

The press were a mixed bag. Some focused on the Foxes’ win against the Ravens. Some focused on Riko Moriyama’s ‘tragic’ ‘suicide.’ Most focused on the Nest shutting down.

Either way, Kevin soon discovered how snowed under his father was.

As for the revelation of Wymack’s deeper connection to Kevin, everyone seemed to have forgotten all about it for the most part. All the calls Wymack received were about interviewing Kevin, or in a lot of cases, Neil, about the aftermath of the final.

 _Kathy’s asking for you, again_  , Wymack texted him one morning, _do I tell her you’re busy?_

It was mostly true that Kevin _was_ busy. If he wanted to count on his fingers how many interviews he’d done already, he’d need to borrow a hand. However, for the first time in almost a month, his diary was clear, so, in theory, he could absolutely go back to Kathy’s show.

It hadn’t been her fault, what had happened the last time he was there. She honestly thought she was being a good Samaritan. Alright, no. Kevin wasn’t that stupid. He knew she did it for the views and probably because Riko had put in a request. Both he and Kathy had gotten what they wanted, more so for Kathy once Neil’s motormouth got going.

“You should tell her you’re sick with grief” Andrew had suggested, then gave a hollow laugh.

Useful as the excuse may be, Kevin simply texted Wymack back to let Kathy know he was swamped.

The Monsters had been relatively the same as they always were. Except, of course, for the fact that following championships, Andrew didn’t let Neil do any hard labour, which included late night practice with Kevin.

Neil desperately needed to take it easy after the year he’d had, and Kevin understood. It was just that now Kevin was restless.

All the upperclassmen had gone for the Summer, and Aaron was spending a few weeks with Katelyn’s family at Disney World. (Aaron and Disney World were a combination that shouldn’t work, he shared too much DNA with Andrew for it to make sense.)

No way would he ever get Nicky to practice with him; he’d already tried asking, and Nicky had whined about needing relaxation.

So, Kevin was at the Foxhole court alone that afternoon, working on drills with his left hand.

He would never admit it, but while the court was in theory his happy place, it was also the bane of his existence, the same way an artist loves painting most when they’re away from the canvas.

Now being the lone ‘Son of Exy’ left no room for mistakes. There was no shadow for him to stay in anymore except his mother’s.

Wymack arrived roughly an hour into his practice, dressed casually in a cream button-down shirt, with short sleeves that showed off his tribal tattoos, and dark jeans.

“I’m so unsurprised to find you here, I just might die of not-shock.”

“What do you want?” sighed Kevin, taking another swing at the cones on the floor.

“How do you feel about a vacation?” Wymack asked.

Kevin used his racquet to gesture to the court. “I’m on vacation” he said, flatly.

“I’m talking about a real vacation, you moron,” said Wymack, “one where you actually take time off. Don’t act like you couldn’t use it.”

“This is where I need to be right now” said Kevin.

“Stressing yourself out more than you already are?” Wymack scoffed, “this-” he pointed to the ground in front of him “-is the last place you need to be. You need to get out of your own head for once.”

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ Jesus, Kevin,” Wymack stepped forward and snatched the racquet away from him, “you’ve been spending too much time around Neil, you sound just like him.”

Kevin tried to grab the stick back, but Wymack held it above his head.

“I don’t spend time around Neil.” Kevin leapt up, but Wymack held it higher. “Neil spends time around me!”

“Christ alive, give it up” Wymack groaned. He began to walk away backwards with Kevin still trying to get the racquet. “Kid, listen to me, the court will still be here when you get back, no one’s tearing it down while you’re not on it.”

He jumped back and hurled the racquet as far down the court as he could. It hit the floor with a thunderous crash and skidded until it hit a wall. Then, he grabbed Kevin by the shoulders to stop him going after it.

“A week,” he said, “let me have a week of your time, at least. You decide you want to practice the rest of the summer when we get back? Fine. But for fuck’s sake, I’m not going to let you wear yourself out like this. Not as your coach, _or_ as your father.”

Kevin stopped fighting.

He looked up into Wymack’s eyes, and immediately regretted it. There was heat in Wymack’s words, but none in his eyes. His eyes were dark and fatigued and looked as though they were the oldest part of his body.

He felt his arms drop to his sides involuntary and looked away.

Wymack squeezed his shoulders. “It’s just a week, Kevin,” he said, “it’ll be done before you know it.”

“What exactly are we doing, then?” Kevin asked, then felt a twinge of fear at the thought that his father wasn’t joining him for whatever he had planned.

Wymack gave a small smile. “I thought we could take a little road trip.”

* * *

They wanted to be on the road before 9AM.

Kevin had been told he wasn’t allowed to bring his laptop, and it was driving him mad.

“Essentially, you’re going cold turkey” said Neil.

He didn’t seem that sympathetic, but then again, Neil didn’t sweat and bleed Exy the way Kevin did, and Kevin knew he’d never come close to it. That wasn’t to say Neil didn’t understand the frustration.

“This’ll be good,” Neil reassured him, “this will give you two time to talk. That’s probably the main reason he’s taking you in the first place. He hasn’t exactly had the chance to properly be your father, yet, and if you’re ignoring him by watching matches until three in the morning then you’re making his job harder.”

Kevin groaned deeply, because he knew Neil was right, and let his head drop to his chest.

Andrew sat on the couch reading his latest book, Slaughterhouse Five, only half paying attention to the conversation.

“We’re also seeing Jean on this trip” Kevin said.

“I know,” said Neil “you mentioned it last night.”

The plan was to drive through the south, go to USC to pay Jean and the Trojans a flying visit, then drive back a slightly different route. Wymack’s thinking was that they could kill two birds with one stone: have some quality time together and check on Jean to see how he was settling.

In theory, it was a great idea, but Kevin wasn’t sure how it’d play out in practice.

He didn’t have long to wonder, though, because it was now 8:30, and he needed to get going.

“Be nice to Abby, OK? Remember you’re having dinner with her on Friday.”

“When are we ever not nice to Abby?” Neil asked.

Kevin could think of a handful of times, but decided not to push it.

He picked up his backpack from the floor and got to his feet.

“Have fun on your life changing father-son road trip” Andrew said, his attention still on his book. “No Powerline concert detours.”

One of these days, Kevin was going to tape over A Goofy Movie.

* * *

 Wymack was leaning against his car looking at his mobile when Kevin arrived outside the court. As soon as he noticed him, his stuffed the phone into the back pocket of his jeans.

“All set?” he asked.

Kevin nodded.

“Excellent,” said Wymack, pushing himself off the side, “in you get.”

He opened the door of the front passenger seat, then walked around the front to get into the driver’s seat.

Kevin threw his bag into the back and climbed in.

Once he’d put his seat belt on, he noticed Wymack pull something out of the glove compartment. It only took his a second to work out it was a cassette tape.

“Music for the journey,” Wymack explained, “it’s mostly oldies, but I know you’re a classical fan, so there’s one or two on here, too.”

“Cool” said Kevin.

Wymack leaned forward and pushed the tape into the player. Then, he sat back and buckled his own seat belt, giving it a few tugs to make sure it was secure.

“Good job for being on time, by the way” he laughed.

Kevin rolled his eyes but said nothing as Wymack turned on the engine with sharp twist of his key.

He watched as they reversed out of the parking lot and the Foxhole court traveled further and further into the distance.

The tape began to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! Kit here! Thank you for coming!  
> So, from here on out each chapter will be titled with the song that is playing in the chapter, and the song in question will be linked in the notes at the beginning.  
> My AFTG Tumblr is do-i-still-love-kevin-day if you need to reach me.


	2. Fox On The Run - Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VP2umy6TdEU

If Wymack thought he was being funny with his music choice, he wasn’t.

Kevin didn’t hate Fox references the way Andrew did, he just wasn’t as excited about them as people like Dan were.

He stared out of the car window in deep thought with his hand cradling his cheek. He thought about how different driving with Wymack felt to driving with the Monsters; how he wouldn’t have to worry about Andrew braking without warning just to make everyone jolt forward or listening to Aaron and Nicky argue about anything that wasn’t something Kevin could contribute to.

Then, he wondered if he was meant to make conversation. That was part of the idea, right? That he and Wymack talk. Only, Kevin didn’t feel like jumping straight into a heart-to-heart.

“Did you listen to this sort of music when you were my age?” he asked, instead.

“Well, yeah” said Wymack, like it was obvious.

“With mom?”

Wymack inhaled deeply. “Yeah,” he said, “she’d lip-sync badly and head-bang hard enough to get a concussion. So, essentially, the opposite of you.”

“Give me a few drinks and I would” said Kevin.

He was still looking out the window, but he could feel Wymack’s judging stare on the back of his head. Perhaps it was a coach thing. Perhaps it was a father thing.

“What?” said Kevin.

“We should get you out of that habit,” replied Wymack, “you’ll thank me when you’re my age and you don’t need a liver transplant.”

Kevin turned to face him. Wymack’s eyes were back on the road.

“You never had a problem with it before” said Kevin.

“I wasn’t your father before” said Wymack.

Kevin went quiet after that.

The landscape changed from buildings to roads to highways. The further they travelled from Palmetto, the more anxious Kevin grew.

It wasn’t just about being away from the court, it was about being away from everything. Everything and everyone… except for the man who only just learnt what his mother had tried to take with her to the grave.

He was thankful to have an excuse to not talk to journalists for at least a week, but he had traded it for a week of talking to Wymack and, so far, he’d managed about a minute before making it awkward.

“You’re shaking the car with your leg bouncing” said Wymack.

“I’m stimming” said Kevin.

“You’re shaking the car,” repeated Wymack, “stim more gently.”

That wasn’t as easy as Wymack made it out to be. Once Kevin really got going with leg-bouncing, slowing down was near impossible. He lifted his heel higher and pulled his leg back, so that he was bouncing up and down on the very tip of his toes rather than the ball of his foot. It seemed to work, because Wymack didn’t bring it up again.

Kevin pulled out his phone and texted Thea. He knew she’d be busy right now; the season may be over for him, but she had a little more time left. She’d encouraged him to get some sleep the night before, so they hadn’t talked for as long as he’d hoped.

She was still a bit upset that he hadn’t told her about his hand. How could he? It was… complicated.

That was the word he’d used when she came storming into Fox Tower demanding an explanation.

It _was_ complicated, to Kevin, at least. Maybe, if he’d been more like Neil and thrown caution to the wind, then Jean would have been safer sooner, then Thea wouldn’t feel like Kevin didn’t trust her.

Then again, he supposed, he was too good at hurting people with lies; just like Neil, and just like Kayleigh.

“What songs are on here?” asked Kevin, pointing to the tape player.

“Specifically? I don’t remember. Songs from when I was your age, mostly. I’m pretty sure Queen’s after this. You should feel honoured.”

Kevin forced a sarcastic laugh.

“I saw them in concert at Madison Square Garden, you know” said Wymack.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a concert sort of guy.”

“I was young once, too, hard as it is to imagine,” Wymack scoffed while shooting Kevin a look.

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “there was no one like Freddie. I’ve never seen anyone with so much energy and style, and I haven’t seen anyone since. He was one of a kind, he truly was a performer.”

The conversation could have stopped there, but Kevin’s interest was piqued.

“Do you have a favourite song?” he asked.

“I like all their songs,” said Wymack, “I don’t have a favourite. It really depends on my mood. I can tell you my least favourite.”

“Go on.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Outside of his classical taste, the music Kevin listened to was mostly whatever Andrew put on in the Maserati, or what was playing at Eden’s. Nevertheless, Bohemian Rhapsody was one of the rare songs Kevin listened to by choice, because he liked it. He liked a lot of Queen songs, but he most definitely loved Bohemian Rhapsody.

“Excuse me?” Kevin gasped.

“I don’t hate it,” said Wymack, “it’s just not really my thing.”

“Because it’s their most popular song?”

Wymack tore his eyes off the road long enough to glare at Kevin.

“I have never disliked anything simply because it was popular.” He turned his attention back to driving before adding, “it’s a song with a lot going on. It’s not really a rock song, it’s its own genre.”

“Now, hang on!” Kevin shifted in his seat, so his body was facing Wymack. “Why would you of all people be restrictive with his music taste? You’ve never stuck to the status quo, you have a whole Exy team built around that.”

“I have an Exy team built around rehabilitation and second chances, not as a way to avoid the status quo.”

“But it’s _because_ of the status quo that you founded the Foxes, because the status quo was to leave damaged kids by the waste side-” Kevin jabbed sharply at him, “-and you said, _‘fuck that’_ , and went against it. Now your team are champions after being the laughingstock of the NCAA for years! Is that, or is that not, the biggest _‘fuck you’_ to the status quo?”

A smile creeped across Wymack’s face. “They’re your team, too, Kevin. You are a Fox.”

Kevin’s mouth slowly closed, and he looked down at his hand. The pale scars stood out against the warm brown of his skin. Sometimes, he could still feel the ghost of a racquet coming down on him, cracking the bones and breaking the skin.

He had begged that night. Begged on his knees to Riko to leave him be.

Had Riko begged to Ichirou the way Kevin had begged to him?

“Kevin?”

He looked up to meet eyes with Wymack, who had concern weighing on his brow.

“Everything OK?” Wymack asked.

Kevin didn’t answer.

Wymack glanced downward and caught on to what had Kevin’s attention.

“You won with that hand” he said.

“With two seconds left on the clock” Kevin agreed.

“That’s right,” said Wymack, “you remember that. You remember that for the rest of your life.”

Somehow, they’d gone from Kayleigh headbanging to Kevin’s history making goal in under five minutes. Conversations where strange like that, Kevin supposed.

“I don’t feel like a Fox” said Kevin.

The rear-view mirror reflected Wymack raising an eyebrow in question.

“I feel like I’m stuck being a Raven forever, no matter what team I’m on.”

He waited for a response. When it wasn’t given, Kevin muttered a small, “sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” said Wymack, “after everything you’ve been through… it makes sense. Jean probably feels the same way.”

Jean _definitely_ felt that way, there was no doubt in Kevin’s mind. They were both still Moriyama property, Riko or no Riko, and neither of them would shake off that reality the way Neil had.

“It feels like I’m letting you down” said Kevin.

“You’re not” said Wymack.

The car once again fell into silence.


	3. Don't Stop Me Now - Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgzGwKwLmgM

“See, I told you” Wymack chirped as Queen began to play.

Kevin hadn’t accused him of lying about it, but he didn’t bring that up. He was too busy replaying their previous conversation in his head.

He checked his phone, knowing that Thea wouldn’t have replied yet, but wanting some sort of distraction to make him look busy.

Sure enough, his inbox was empty.

He texted Andrew, _Still alive?_

He meant it as a question to both him and Neil, but Neil was as likely to reply to his texts as Freddie Mercury was likely to come back from the dead.

“When do you think you’ll want to stop for a break?” Wymack asked.

Kevin shrugged. “Whenever you think we’ll need it” he said.

“Fair enough.”

Kevin put his phone away, then leaned forward and turned up the volume. There were just some songs that needed to be blasted while speeding down a highway and this was no exception.

He began to nod his head to the beat and drum his fingers against his leg to the piano keys.

He’d always be interested in learning to play piano, but Exy had always come first. Nevertheless, it was high on his list of things to do before he died; not that he actually had one written down, it was more of a mental note-to-self.

Wymack turned the volume higher and rolled down the windows. The wind whipped at their hair, more so at Kevin’s. His was longer and fuller than his father’s, he’d put that down to age.

It was almost impossible to feel bad with this song playing, the energy and words were just too optimistic. He understood now what Wymack had meant about Freddie. He could vividly imagine him jumping and spinning around the stage as he sang, banging his head and clapping his hands.

The song alone was like a caffeine rush, add one of the greatest singers in the history of music into the mix while performing live and it must’ve been orgasmic.

“Do you think if he hadn’t died, he’d still be performing today?” Kevin asked.

Wymack had to turn the volume down and ask him to repeat the question.

“Maybe. Who knows,” Wymack shrugged, “it’s possible that the only thing that could’ve stopped him was death.”

It was left unsaid, but Kevin was sure he knew what his father was thinking.

“Like mom.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Wymack’s mouth. “She had _so_ much energy,” he laughed, rolling his eyes, “I blame all the coffee she drank, she was one of those insufferable people who refused to function until she had her coffee. Her kisses would always taste of it.”

Something flashed in Kevin’s memory.

Her kisses. She was always kissing Kevin, every chance she got. He’d never forgotten about that, but now he realised a key detail had slipped his mind.  

“She smelt like it, too,” Kevin gasped softly, “she smelt like coffee all the time.”

“She did” said Wymack.

As a child, the smell of coffee was always connected to her in Kevin’s mind.

He would be woken up every morning by her kneeling beside his bed and pressing her lips to his forehead, telling him it was time to get up. He’d be scooped up into her arms and she’d pepper his cheeks with more kisses, and blow raspberries into the side of his face.

Whenever she dropped him off at school she’d give him a kiss on his nose or cheek before ushering him towards the teacher waiting by the classroom door, and when she collected him at the end of the school day, more kisses would be waiting for him.

She’d drink decaffeinated coffee in the afternoons and evenings, so when she tucked him into bed and gave him his goodnight kiss he would catch one last whiff before lights out.

Even when other adults and places carried the scent, he would think of his mother, because it was mammy’s smell.

That had changed when Kevin moved to Evermore.

University students would sit around completing assignments with mugs of coffee at their side, and eventually Kevin felt the need for it himself. He was always expected to bring two back to the dorm: one for him, one for Riko.

Jean would secretly complain to him about how American coffee didn’t compare to what he had back home, while also admitting he no longer remembered what it was like, just that it was better.

Once he left, coffee was the smell of Wymack’s apartment and Andrew’s car and the house in Columbia.

It had become a mundane part of Kevin’s life, and its association with Kayleigh had been lost a long time ago.

By the time he zoned back into his surroundings, the song was fading out.

Wymack pressed the button to switch it to radio.

“I just want to listen to the traffic news,” he explained, “then we’ll go back to the tape.”

“OK” muttered Kevin.

He heard the hum of the reporter’s voice, but he didn’t listen to the words.

He checked his phone again. Nothing from anyone.

Andrew was probably too invested in his book to reply, or he and Neil were _busy_. Either way, he had to accept he wasn’t going to hear from them any time soon.

Thea would text him when she got the chance; he wasn’t concerned about her the way he was with Neil and Andrew.

“What’re you thinking about?” Wymack asked.

Kevin contemplated bringing up his teammates or Thea.

“Can we get some when we stop? Coffee, I mean” he replied.

“Of course,” said Wymack, “didn’t get enough sleep last night, huh?”

“That’s not why I want some.”

Wymack gave a short, forced laugh in response.

“Fine. Fucking forget it” said Kevin.

Wymack stared at him, taken aback. “Would you like some lemonade with that _chill-the-fuck-out_? Cranky, much?”

Kevin threw his arms up in frustration, then sat back and crossed them close to his chest.

“When we stop, I’m making you have a walk around, to cool off from whatever’s got your panties in a twist” said Wymack.

Sometimes, Kevin wished his dad had mind reading powers, so he would know what was going on in Kevin’s head without the difficulty of having to put it into words.

He knew he was being dramatic, he was just… so _mad_ at himself, and he just didn’t have it in him right now to try and explain why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even I'm surprised at how fast I finished this chapter, please don't expect this to be a regular thing...


	4. Going Underground - The Jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE1ct5yEuVY

Kevin didn’t know the song currently playing, and he didn’t feel like asking Wymack about it. He didn’t feel like talking in general.

What else had he forgotten about his mother?

He’d only known her for ten years, and the first five were fuzzy.

He racked his brain to come up with what his earliest memory of her was.

Before, he thought it was the time he’d asked why he didn’t look like her. In more recent years, he recognised her in his reflection, because he knew he had her eyes, but his skin had always been darker than hers. She had explained that he got his complexion from his dad, and that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

What if he had an earlier memory, though? Something that had faded over time.

He was tempted to ask Wymack about his toddler years, to see if anything rang a bell. On the other hand, talking to him was proving frustrating; Kevin was bad at explaining his thought process and Wymack clearly saw Kevin as a nuisance.

Poor man, thought Kevin, having a son dumped on you out of nowhere.

His parents probably had a drunken one-night stand or something in the same vein and Kevin was the result. He didn’t blame his mother for lying to save Wymack the embarrassment.

Still, poor Wymack, he’d been doing just fine without Kevin as an extra responsibility. It was a blessing, then, that Wymack didn’t find out the truth until Kevin was an adult.

“Daydreaming?” asked Wymack.

“About jumping out of this car? Yes,” said Kevin.

That was a lie. He hadn’t seen it, but Neil had told him about the scar he got from escaping a moving vehicle and it didn’t sound that fun.

Wymack groaned, “the holiday has barely started, are you really going to start being difficult right now?”

“Oh, I’ve always been difficult” said Kevin.

“You’re not wrong there” Wymack scoffed.

Kevin’s gut ached, as though it’d been punched.

“I’m sorry” he said.

“Look,” said Wymack, “if something’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

“It’s fine” said Kevin.

Wymack gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Don’t you dare pull a _Josten_ on me.”

Kevin couldn’t hold back a laugh at that.

“He’s a dick” Kevin chuckled.

“Is that why you’re moping?” asked Wymack.

“Neil’s not involved in my ‘moping,’ it’s just a fact that he’s an asshole.”

Kevin shuffled in his seat, so that he was sitting upright, then scratched the back of his neck.

“I forgot what mom smelt like.”

Wymack frowned and pursed his lips, giving Kevin a sideways glance.

“And… you’re upset that you forgot?” he asked.

“I’m livid” said Kevin.

Wymack’s shoulders tensed.

“Sometimes you forget things, it happens. I forget things all the time. It’s not worth beating yourself up about.”

“This isn’t forgetting keys or forgetting to reply to a text, this-” Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, “-this is my _mother_.”

“Kevin-” Wymack began, then paused.

The only two noises in the car for a while were the tape and the wind through the still rolled-down windows. Wymack gazed off into the distance, like he was going to find the right words to say on the horizon. Eventually, He wetted his lips and took a deep breath.

“You didn’t forget. It was there, it just got stored away, for safe keeping.”

Kevin’s stomach bottomed out.

He wasn’t sure that he saw it that way himself, but it was better than the alternative.

He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever words he had planned to say died in his throat. He forced himself to talk, anyway.

“You know,” he mumbled, “you’re not as bad at this as you think.”

Wymack turned to him. “Define _‘this’_ for me.”

“…Consultation, I guess,” said Kevin, “the pep talk you gave before the final game wasn’t half bad, either.”

It was more than just ‘not half bad’, but there was only so much thought Kevin could force out of his mouth at a time; at least, when it came to heart-to-heart conversations.

“Well, thank you,” said Wymack, “I do my best.”

“I know” said Kevin, and that was that.

The silence between talks was becoming a little easier. It was still only the first day, if they kept at this pace, maybe they could actually get somewhere.

It felt strange to be optimistic for once.


	5. She's Always a Woman - Billy Joel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cx3QmqV2pHg

It only took the first few notes for Kevin to recognise the song.

“This is Billy Joel” he said, only just containing his excitement.

“Correct” said Wymack.

“I listen to this all the time,” Kevin explained, “it-” he cleared his throat “-it reminds me of Thea.”

Wymack’s expression soften, his hold on the wheel relaxed.

“This song has always been about your mother,” he smiled wistfully, “to me, at least.”

Kevin breathed a soft, “oh,” and sat up.

“We listened to this together,” Wymack continued, “I used to tease her by saying Billy Joel spied on her for inspiration.”

Kevin stayed quiet, so he could listen to the lyrics. He didn’t need to, he knew every word. He’d whispered the song into the crook of Thea’s neck countless times and laid awake listening to it at night when he missed her and couldn’t sleep. He knew what this song meant.

“This is a love song” he said.

“I know” said Wymack.

Kevin didn’t know the right way to phrase his question without sounding rude.

“So,” he said, “you…”

Wymack tilted his head to one side in a silent question of his own.

Kevin bit down on his bottom lip. He’d started the sentence, he might as well finish it.

“You were in love?”

For whatever reason, Kevin felt embarrassed by the question. Not because of the idea of his dad loving his mom, but because it felt like a stupid question. Most parents loved each other. No parents Kevin knew, though.

Neil’s mother had run from her husband and taken Neil with her. Matt’s parents were divorced, and his dad sounded like a bit of a basket case. Andrew and Aaron never even had a father. Nicky’s parents… who was to say? They certainly didn’t love their son, or their nephews, so what did it matter?

None of the Foxes had a normal family, including Kevin, whether he felt like a Fox or not.

Wymack blinked a few times while he seemly processed the question. Then said, “I thought you already knew that?”

“No” said Kevin.

“You’re the one with the letter,” said Wymack, “how did that detail go over your head?”

It took a second for Kevin to fall in as to which letter Wymack was referring to.

“Where in the letter does it say that?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Wymack threw his hands up, then placed them back on the wheel and scoffed, “I don’t know, the only time I read it was when you showed it to me. I’m fairly certain it’s strongly implied.”

“Right, OK, here’s the thing, I don’t do _‘strongly implied’_ -” Kevin used air quotes as he said it “- I do _‘blatantly obvious’_ , as in Neil and Andrew level obvious, or Oscar Wilde obvious.”

“Oscar Wilde?”

“He was as openly gay as it gets,” said Kevin, “but we’re not talking about Oscar Wilde, we’re talking about you and mom.”

Kevin swallowed, then continued, “when I was a kid, you were mom’s friend who came to visit; then I found the letter in the Ma- in Moriyama’s desk draw, and it threw me.”

He sighed deeply. “I haven’t read it in a while, so I don’t remember all of it, but… I thought I was the result of a one-night stand between you and her, now I’m thinking I remember it wrong. I was so sure I was a mistake-”

“You were unexpected,” Wymack interrupted, his tone sharp, “not just to me, but to her as well.” He looked Kevin straight in the eye as he said, “but you are not a mistake, Kevin. Don’t ever call yourself that. She never saw you that way, and neither do I.”

“Oh” Kevin said, again.

Wymack worked his jaw for a moment. “She and I saw other people while seeing each other, it worked for us because we were both busy and across the ocean from each other. I… also thought you were the result of a one-night stand, because that’s what she told me.”

“But she lied” said Kevin, knowingly.

“She did” said Wymack.

The song ended.

“Could we play it again?” Kevin asked.

Without a word, Wymack pressed the rewind button. After a few seconds, he pressed stop, then play. The tape began playing the last verse of the previous song.

“Thank you” said Kevin.

Wymack gave him a nod.

Kevin pulled out his phone again and checked his inbox.

He felt a spark in his head when he saw Thea had replied.

_Did you manage to sleep last night?_

_A little, I can probably sleep in the car_  , he texted back, then put the phone away.

There was still nothing from Andrew, but that was to be expected.

Once again, Billy Joel began to play.

Kevin leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

The lyrics had new meaning, now.

He’d never considered it before, but it sounded like he had his father’s taste in women. Did that mean he had his mother’s taste in men?

He then realised that he’d never really thought about what his taste was.

In the Nest, you got what you could get in terms of sex; romance was out of the question.

That wasn’t the case with Thea. She complemented Kevin in a way he couldn’t describe. He wanted to mean something to her, something other than being Kevin Day, son of Exy, and something more than a hook-up.

He could feel it in his chest every time he thought about her, and the sensation was right there, on the tip of his tongue, yet it was in a language he wasn’t fluent in.

In its simplest terms: it was love. He knew, though, that it was a specific kind of love, the one that suddenly made him go stupid. Words like Eros and Agape came to mind, but he wasn’t looking for a word, he needed a metaphor.

“How did mom make you feel?” he asked Wymack, “why did you fall in love with her? Why her?”

“Fuck if I know,” laughed Wymack, “I ask myself the same damn thing.”

“Come on, you must remember.”

“I don’t think about these things the way you do,” said Wymack, “I fell in love because I did. Because that’s what happened.”

Kevin rolled his eyes.

Of course, asking Wymack wouldn’t get him anywhere. He would have to figure it out on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, probably because this song just fits Kayleigh so well <3


	6. Sweet Child O'Mine - Guns N' Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w7OgIMMRc4

“We’ll stop in a couple of minutes for coffee,” said Wymack, “sound good?”

Kevin nodded.

He would’ve replied verbally, but he was enjoying the song too much. He knew that Jeremy could play it on guitar. It figured that Jeremy had time to practice both guitar and Exy, seeing as he had never been part of a hivemind.

Kevin couldn’t imagine him in the Nest, he was too… pure.

Jeremy was born to be a Trojan, just not in the way Kevin was born to be a Raven, or Neil or Jean, for that matter.

Maybe that’s what Kevin liked about Jeremy; he was untouched by chaos.

“You wanna play a game?” asked Wymack.

“What for?” Kevin asked back.

“To pass the time, or do you really plan on ignoring me?”

Kevin sighed, “sure, what do you want to play?”

Wymack thought about it, then said, “how about a guessing game? You think of something, and I’ll try to guess what it is.”

Kevin thought car games were childish, but if it meant not talking about tricky subjects for a while, he’d take it.

He decided to stick with Jeremy, seeing as he’d already been thinking about him.

“I’ve got something” he told Wymack.

“OK,” Wymack smiled, “animal, mineral, or vegetable?”

“Animal” said Kevin.

“Human?” Wymack asked.

“Yes” said Kevin.

“Man or woman?”

“Man.”

“Fictional or real?”

“Real.” Why would Kevin think of an imaginary person?

“Dead or alive?”

“Alive.”

Wymack clicked his tongue in thought, “is it someone from Palmetto?”

“No” said Kevin.

“Jeremy Knox” Wymack grinned.

Kevin gaped at him. “How the hell did you get that?”

“He’s one of the only people you truly care about,” Wymack said with a cocky look, “now you have to guess.”

This game had been a bad idea.

“Fine. Animal, mineral, or vegetable?”

“Animal” said Wymack.

“Man or woman?”

“Now, hang on, you don’t know that it’s human!”

“Is it?”

“…Yes.”

“Man or woman?”

“Man” Wymack said with an eyeroll.

“Dead or alive?”

“Alive.”

“Is it someone from Palmetto?”

“Yes.”

Kevin tilted his head back to stare at the roof of the car. “Is it one of the Monsters?”

“It is” said Wymack.

“Andrew.”

“No.”

“Neil, then.”

“Nope.”

“Nicky?”

“How about actually asking questions instead of listing people?”

Kevin groaned, “fine, is he related to Andrew?”

“No.”

Of course, he should have seen this coming.

“It’s me.”

“It’s you.”

“Great.”

Kevin quickly settled on Alexander the Great and motioned to Wymack to start asking.

“Human?” asked Wymack.

“Yes.”

“Man or woman?”

“Man.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Dead.”

Wymack gave him the side-eye. “Is it someone I’ve met?”

“No” said Kevin, knowing who Wymack had been thinking of.

“Alright, then,” said Wymack, “was he a celebrity?”

“Kind of.”

“A historical figure?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm” Wymack hummed. “Was he alive in my life time?”

“No. Hard as that is to believe.”

“Very funny,” Wymack scoffed. He mulled over it for a while, then asked, “was he royalty?”

“Yes” said Kevin.

“Was he British?”

“No.”

“Roman?”

“No.”

“Greek?”

“Yes.”

Wymack laughed, “was he a Trojan?”

“No.”

“Really?” Wymack teased, “shocking.”

“Not really” Kevin shrugged.

Wymack tapped his fingers against the wheel. “I’m not sure how many Greeks I know” he confessed.

“Think of the most obvious one” said Kevin.

“It may be obvious to you but not to me” said Wymack.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention in History class.”

“Young man,” Wymack wagged a finger at him, “the war in Vietnam was happening for the first twenty years of my life. I have been alive longer than the Berlin Wall was up. If I don’t remember something I was taught in History class, it’s because I am a piece of History myself.”

On one hand, Kevin hated Wymack’s nagging. On the other, he had an interesting point, and Kevin would have to bring that up later.

“OK,” said Kevin, “I’ll give you a clue: he was Great.”

Wymack raised an eyebrow, “great at what?”

Kevin slapped his palm to his forehead. “He was _known_ as ‘Great’.”

“Great what?”

“Do you give up?”

“Yes.”

“Alexander the Great.”

“Ahh,” Wymack nodded, “I see.”

“I win” said Kevin, though it didn’t feel like it.

They continued playing for a few more rounds. Kevin managed to guess JFK and Doctor Dobson and Stalin. Wymack guessed right on Kayleigh, Freddie Mercury, and even Tchaikovsky.

“He’s on here” explained Wymack, when asked.

A couple more miles down the road, Wymack pulled into a gas station.

If it weren’t for the people walking in and out of the little building behind the gas pumps, Kevin would’ve thought it had been abandoned. The exterior was old and filthy, with gun shot holes through the welcome sign. It would’ve worried Kevin, but this was the South, he knew not to expect anything else.

Wymack turned off the engine, then turned to Kevin.

“Stretch your legs while I fill up,” he said, “maybe take a bathroom break, too, if they have one. We’ll grab coffee before we leave.”

Kevin undid his seat belt, then climbed out of the car.

It felt so good to be standing again, and he let himself have a big stretch for good measure.

He took out his phone to see he had a new message from Thea asking what they were up to. He quickly tapped a reply, then texted Andrew an, _Earth to Andrew._

Why he was kidding himself to think Andrew would reply, he didn’t know. He didn’t know why he expected anything from him other than what he got.

Kevin was beginning to realise that, for a pessimist, he had very high expectations of people.

He walked a few yards from the car, and was about to put his phone away, when he noticed an unread text. It wasn’t Andrew (surprise, surprise), and it wasn’t Thea, either.

It was Jeremy.

_Hey! Just wanted to check in! You both doing OK?_

Kevin almost dropped his phone.

He gawked at the text in panic. He couldn’t talk to Jeremy the way he talked to other people; Jeremy Knox could never know that Kevin was a blunt asshole.

So, he carefully typed out a message, and then promptly deleted it. Then he tried again and didn’t like that version either. He felt as though he either sounded too aloof or too keen.

He forced himself to settle for:  _Yep, we’ve just stopped for a break, all OK with you?_

Once he sent the text, he looked back over to Wymack, who was just finishing filling the car with gas.

How _had_ Wymack guessed Jeremy so quickly during their guessing game? Was Kevin really that obsessed?

Not that he felt any shame about it. The Trojans were an outstanding team, far superior to anything the Foxes could ever hope to be, and Jeremy was not only a great athlete, but a great person, too. Naturally, Kevin would admire him. What Kevin wanted to know was why none of the other Foxes felt the same way he did.

Besides, if anyone knew what a good Exy team looked like, it was Kevin.

Despite his high horse, he knew that even he wasn’t good enough for the Trojans, or to be Jeremy’s friend.

Just as well, then, that it was Jean who had been transferred there. It was the least Kevin could give him.

Kevin worried that it might just be the most, as well.


	7. Roxanne - The Police

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXzFCS72QIA

As soon as Kevin inhaled the smell of coffee, everything felt OK.

He closed his eyes and pictured his mother, sitting at her desk typing furiously away on her giant computer, mug of coffee by her side with her glasses pushed as far up her nose as they would go.

He remembered what it was like when she pulled him onto her lap and let him sit there while she worked, and how she answered all of Kevin’s rapid-fire questions about what she was up to.

It had always confused him as a child, why so much of his mother’s job was sitting at a desk replying to emails. He now realised his father’s job wasn’t that much different.

What would have been like, he wondered, if his parents had raised him together.

Would they share the computer, or would they have owned two? Would they work in the same room so that they could chat to each other? Would they all live in Ireland or the States?

Would Kevin’s name have been Kevin Wymack-Day?

Now, how the hell would that fit onto the back of a jersey?

Snapping fingers in front of his face brought him back to reality.

“Earth to Kevin? Hello in there” called Wymack.

Kevin blinked at him a few times.

“When you’re done being off in Dreamland, you wanna hop in so we can get going?”

“Yeah,” Kevin mumbled, “sorry.”

Wymack opened the car door for him and held his drink as he slid back into his seat. Once he’d pulled his seat belt on, Wymack handed the coffee back to him, and walked around the front to the driver’s side.

He put his own coffee on the cup holder between his seat and Kevin’s, and climbed in. He put on his seat belt and gave it a few tugs.

“Right,” said Wymack, “you want the tape back on?”

“Yeah. Please.”

Wymack hit play, then started the engine.

There seemed to be a pattern to most of his father’s music: lots of guitars. It wasn’t a problem, merely an observation.

“Wasn’t this song in Moulin Rouge?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah. Since when have you seen that?” laughed Wymack.

“The girls put it on for one of our movie nights,” said Kevin, “I didn’t pay that much attention, but the scene with this in was OK.”

Then he arched an eyebrow at Wymack and added, “so, when have _you_ seen it?”

“With Abby” Wymack replied casually.

Kevin had never taken part in the bet surrounding Abby and Wymack’s relationship. Of course, it was only recently that the Foxes had found out why.

Usually, Kevin wasn’t fazed by whatever people did in private lives; sex and other related matters were just a fact of life to him.

When Seth was alive, he and Allison had flaunted their bedroom habits like a new car, and the only reason Kevin was offended by that was because he hated Seth. He just hated the fact that Seth existed.

He would never admit it, but he still felt the weight of guilt on his conscience for what had happened. That didn’t mean he liked Seth any more than he did before, he just couldn’t handle the feeling that somehow blood was on his hands. 

They re-joined the highway. Wymack rolled down the windows again.

It felt just as good as the first time round.

“You wanna continue playing our game?” asked Wymack.

Kevin shook his head. “I think I’m good.”

“Suit yourself” Wymack said.

He would. Kevin would suit himself, thank you very much.

He took a long sip of his coffee and closed his eyes, resting his head on his shoulder which he propped up with his elbow resting against the car door, letting the small vibrations run through him.

His mind drifted back to the make belief life he had been mapping out.

Maybe, just maybe, if Wymack had known the truth from the start, Kevin’s mother would still be alive. The theory didn’t hold any water, but Kevin couldn’t let it go.

Kevin might have still gone to Evermore, but he’d have his parents to keep him safe. His mother might be coach there, possibly without Moriyama. That, or she’d have a different University team, and Kevin would play for them. He wouldn’t be a Raven or a Fox, he’d have an entirely different life.

But then what would happen to Jean? Or Andrew or Neil? Would they be safe, too?

He wrestled with these thoughts until he drifted off to sleep, still holding his coffee.

A hand on his shoulder woke him with a jump.

“It’s just me,” said Wymack, “we’re at the motel.”

The car was quiet and dark, with only the purple glow of the motel sign lighting his father’s face, drawing attention to the creases around his eyes and mouth.

Kevin’s coffee cup was cold in his hands.

“C’mon,” said Wymack, giving Kevin’s shoulder a small shove, “up you get, I’ve already checked in, you help me carry our stuff.”

After rubbing his eyes, Kevin exited the car, taking his cold coffee with him.

Wymack took it from him and gestured with a nod to the trunk, which was already open.

“We’re Room 20. Upstairs, first door on the right” he said, before going off to find a trash can.

Kevin walked round to the back of the car and moved in for Wymack’s bags, when something caught his eye: The unmistakeable shape of two Exy racquets, one with a ball sitting in its net.

Wymack must’ve forgotten to take them out of his trunk before they left. Maybe Kevin could get in some Exy practice after all.

He leaned into the trunk and reached for them. Then he stopped. He pulled his hand back and took the two bags out and headed inside the building.

The bags weren’t that heavy, which didn’t surprise him, seeing as he and Wymack were only going to be away for about a week, give or take.

He went past reception where a bored looking woman about Kevin’s age sat behind the desk filing her nails. She reminded him briefly of Allison.

The staircase was just wide enough for Kevin to hold one bag in either hand, covered in a dark maroon carpet that looked in desperate need of replacing.

Once he got up the stairs, he saw the door to Room 20 open and waiting for him.

The room wasn’t too bad. Kevin had stayed in fancier establishments back when he still played for Edgar Allan, but apart from the same old carpet he’d found on the stairs and the ugly beige bed covers, this was a perfectly acceptable place.

He dropped the bags at the foot of the bed nearest the door, then sat at the other nearest the window and toed off his shoes.

His phone buzzed with a new text. He looked to see it was Jeremy.

_Yeah! We’re both doing well! Sorry for not replying sooner, I got distracted!_

Kevin smiled.

For whatever reason, he found it endearing how Jeremy put exclamation points after everything he said, as though he was excitedly yelling at Kevin all the way from California.

Before he could reply, Wymack showed up at the door, carrying Kevin’s bag from the back seat, which he tossed over.

“Put your shoes back on,” he said, “we’re going to Blockbuster.”

Kevin frowned. “Why?”

Wymack shrugged, “I just thought we could have a movie night like the ones you have with the team. We’ll order pizza in.”

Kevin opened his mouth to complain, then closed it.

With a small sigh, he pulled his on shoes and went over to his father, who then dangled the room key in front of Kevin’s face. “You wanna be in charge of this?” he asked.

“I can be” Kevin replied.

Wymack let it drop. Kevin threw up his left hand and caught it before it had fallen past his chest.

“Nice reflexes you got there” Wymack grinned.

“He made us practice” said Kevin.

Wymack didn’t acknowledge the comment and beckoned him out of the room with a flick of his wrist.


	8. American Pie - Don McLean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iX_TFkut1PM

The Blockbuster was a five-minute drive from the motel. The parking lot beside it was small and almost full, but Wymack managed to park without too much stress.

“Am I within the lines?” he asked.

Kevin opened his door and looked down to check.

“Yeah” he replied.

Wymack turned off the engine. They both climbed out and made their way inside.

The whole store was lit so brightly, Kevin squinted and tried to let his eyes adjust.

“What’re you in the mood for?” Wymack asked.

“This was your idea” said Kevin.

“I know,” said Wymack, “but I think you should choose. You know your movie tastes better than I do. Anything you want, I’ll rent it.”

He ushered Kevin towards the shelves packed with VHS tapes and DVDs.

“Go on,” Wymack told him, “any film you like.”

Kevin wasn’t entirely sure he was in the mood for a movie night, but then again, he never was.

Back at Fox Tower he’d, more often than not, disappear into his room to watch Exy on his laptop. It wasn’t that he didn’t like movies, just that the kind of movies the other Foxes liked to watch were, well, not really his thing: overdone action flicks, horror that went for shock value over good story telling, comedies that relied on gross-out humour and titillation, musicals.

None of the Foxes liked his cinematic tastes, either, which didn’t make sense.

Unless, it was _Kevin_ that they didn’t like…

He scanned the shelves, ignoring the options his peers would be pulled to. Nothing was catching his fancy, he was beginning to wonder if anything would.

He looked over his should to see Wymack waiting patiently to the side. How long was he willing to wait, though?

Kevin crouched down to look at the DVDs closer to the floor.

A familiar film caught his eye: Stand By Me.

He saw it when he was about nine, without his mother’s knowledge; he’d pinched it from her collection of VHS tapes recorded from television one summer when none of his friends were around and he was bored.

It wasn’t half bad, if he remembered correctly.

He grabbed it, stood and turned to show Wymack.

Wymack took it and smiled. “Nice choice, shall we?”

They checked it out for the night at the till, then headed back to the car.

“I have snacks back at the room,” said Wymack as he unlocked the doors, “I wasn’t sure what popcorn you liked, so I got a bag of sweet and a bag of salty.”

“You can ask me these things. If you want to know something about me, then ask.”

He opened his door then said, “for the record, I like mixed sweet and salty, so you made a good call. I would’ve been OK with whatever, though.”

Then he got in.

Wymack followed suit and shut his door behind him.

“What’s your favourite colour?” he asked.

Kevin blinked at him.

“You said if I wanted to know something about you, I should ask. So, out of curiosity, what’s your favourite colour?”

“Red” said Kevin.

Wymack nodded in agreement, “I like red, too, and orange.”

“One would hope you did,” Kevin scoffed, “or you’d just have to put up with it.”

“True” laughed Wymack, belting himself in and giving it a tug.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Kevin inquired.

Wymack frowned, side-eyeing Kevin. “Doing what?”

“Tugging on your seat belt,” said Kevin “you did it before we left this morning, you did it at the gas station, you did it before we left the motel and you’ve just done it, again.”

Wymack didn’t look at him as he placed his hands on the wheel. “I’m making sure its secure, that’s all.”

He pulled out of the parking space and returned to the road.

Kevin spent the ride back quietly listening to the tape. He only half understood the lyrics; the ones referring to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly were clear enough; the rest, not so much.

He stared out into the night, picturing the imagery painted by the song. He hadn’t realised before how religious the song was, until he was imaging hellfire and the holy trinity.

Growing up, Kevin had never been that religious. His mother sometimes took him to church, but that was more of a social thing for her, seeing as she herself had been raised Catholic and had friends who still practiced the faith.

Her funeral had been held in the old church. Many mourners had to stand. Fans and eager press had waited outside, and Moriyama had taken him away immediately after the service.

He knew Wymack had been there, because he’d seen him briefly. He remembered how tired his father had looked, as though he had not slept in a week.

This, of course, was years prior to learning Wymack was indeed his father. So, why had Kevin been so desperate to see him that day? Perhaps, deep in his soul, he could feel their bond and knew Wymack wanted to see him just as urgently.

They arrived back at the motel and went to their room to phone the local pizza delivery.

“Ham and pineapple, right?” Wymack asked.

Kevin nodded.

“Strange child.”

“Don’t you start” Kevin groaned.

“They call it a Hawaiian and it’s not even Hawaiian,” Wymack complained as he dialled the number on his mobile, “it’s just called that, now everyone blames the Hawaiians for pineapple on pizza.”

“Who cares?” Kevin scoffed.

Wymack looked him in the eye and said, “the Hawaiians,” then put the phone to his ear and held up a finger to let Kevin know to be quiet.

Kevin sat on his bed and looked at his own phone as Wymack ordered. He typed a reply to Jeremy: _Don’t worry about it, it’s OK. Up to anything?_

Should he add a smiley face? Or would that make it sound more sarcastic than it already did? Kevin didn’t really do faces in texts, anyway, so he sent it as it was.

When Wymack got off the phone, he asked, “you wanna start watching now or wait for the pizza?”

“I don’t mind” said Kevin.

“Do you have a preference?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

Wymack took the DVD out of its box and slipped it into the player under the small television on the dresser opposite the beds.

Half an hour in, the pizza arrived. They sat in silence while they ate and watched. Some scenes were hard to stomach while eating, but they managed.

It was pretty much how Kevin remembered it, though it left a different impact on him now than when he was nine. Experiencing the story with the perspective of an adult versus a child made Kevin reflect.

For example, when at the end, it was revealed that Chris died in meaningless fashion after growing out of his circumstances, nine-year-old Kevin had felt as though he had been slapped in the face.

Twenty-one-year-old Kevin felt no such betrayal.

They finished their pizzas before the credits rolled, then Wymack took the empty boxes to the trash outside.

Kevin stared at the now pitch-black television screen, listening to the crackle and pop of the static that remained.

He didn’t notice when Wymack returned and began speaking to him until a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Doing OK?” Wymack asked.

Kevin shrugged, “deep in thought.”

“You seem to be doing a lot of thinking, today.”

“There’s a lot to think about.”

Wymack joined him on the bed, balancing on Kevin’s shoulder with one hand as he lowered himself down. Then, he asked, “do you want to talk about it?”

“We’ve been doing a lot of that, today, too” said Kevin.

Wymack nodded. “I’m glad, though,” he told him, “I’m glad we’ve been able to talk some things through.”

“Yeah” Kevin replied with a yawn. Sitting in a car for hours on end was surprisingly draining.

There was a minute-long silence before Wymack spoke again, “can I ask you something?”

“Didn’t I say you could?” Kevin said, looking over to him with heavy eyelids.

Wymack gave a small smile, then looked away.

“When we were talking about your mother’s letter earlier, it reminded me of something I wanted to bring up.”

Panic shook Kevin wide awake.

“Oh?” he asked, in a small voice.

“I was wondering,” said Wymack, pausing to poke his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “how did you feel when you found that letter? How-” he dragged a hand down his face “- how did you react to finding out that I’m your father?”

Kevin’s pulse slowed. He worked his jaw, then laughed nervously.

“Honestly?” he said, “I was relieved.”

Whatever answer Wymack had been anticipating, it hadn’t been this one. His eyebrows shot up while the rest of his face remained neutral.

“It’s just,” Kevin continued, “I never really gave that much thought to having father growing up. I was too young to have a full grasp on our lifestyle, but I knew the old religious locals judged mom, being an unmarried mother and all. I never saw what the problem was, we were happy.”

He ran a hand through his hair, letting some of it fall into his face.

“I used to think that, some day, she would get married to my birth father, and I would have to put up with some random man. That scared me as a child, the thought of someone I didn’t know or like being my dad.

But, I knew _you_. I liked it when you came to see us. Some of my favourite childhood memories involve your visits. You were… cool, and fun.”

Kevin pressed his own dark-skinned arm to Wymack’s.

“And you looked like me.

“So, in my head, you were already my dad, in a way. It just made sense to me. But, when I went to live with Coach Moriyama and not you, I figured that I was wrong. That my father really was some random man I would never know about.”

Wymack sat patiently as Kevin spoke.

“When I found the letter, I didn’t know what to think. Nothing except that I was relieved it was you.”

He fell silent for a moment, then found himself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I left it so long to tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner-”

“ _Kevin_.”

“I know you keep telling me that it’s OK, but I’m not sure I see how it can be.”

“Because you were a child,” said Wymack, “because you are still a child. Your mother never should have left you with that responsibility.”

Kevin hung his head low in hopes of hiding his face.

Wymack’s arm appeared around him, pulled him close and held him tight.


	9. Johnny B Goode - Chuck Berry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T38v3-SSGcM

Kevin woke the next morning to the sound of Wymack shaving in the bathroom with the door open.

His hair was wet from the shower and he was only dressed in his jeans, with a towel draped over his bare shoulders, catching droplets from his hair.

He was humming something to himself as he shaved, something upbeat.

“What’s that?” Kevin asked.

“The tune? Johnny B Goode” Wymack replied.

“That’s the song from Back To The Future, right?” Kevin said, willing himself to slide his feet out of the bed and onto the carpet.

Wymack gave a tiny shrug. “I haven’t seen that movie in years, but you probably know better than I do.”

“Is that what’s next on the mixtape?” Kevin perked up.

“If I remember correctly, yeah, I’m pretty sure I put it after Don McLean.”

Kevin pushed himself up off his mattress and sluggishly walked to the bathroom door, leaning himself against the frame.

“How did you choose the songs?” he asked, “and the order?”

Wymack rinsed his razor under the faucet. “The order is random, the songs aren’t.”

Kevin cocked his head to one side. Wymack saw it in the mirror, the steam mostly evaporated.

“I chose songs I thought you’d like,” he explained, “I admit, there is some purposeful spacing. No artist twice in a row, for example.”

He tilted his head up to shave under his chin. “Do want to shower before breakfast?”

Kevin glanced to the digital clock on the dresser. It told him that it was a few minutes until eleven.

“Don’t they stop serving breakfast here after nine?” Kevin inquired.

“Correct” said Wymack. He rinsed his razor again, then got to work under his nose. “I knew you’d hate me if I got you up before then. So, I figured, seeing as you’re on vacation, I’d give you the luxury of sleeping in. You’re welcome.”

He rinsed his razor once more, then began to rinse his face.

Once he’d patted his face dry with the towel, he said, “there’s a diner a few miles up the road that does all day breakfast, we’ll eat there.”

Kevin nodded in understanding.

“Back to my original question,” said Wymack as he finally turned to face him, “you showering or not?”

“I’ll shower tonight” Kevin said.

Wymack put his razor away in its case. “Then get dressed.”

Then he exited the bathroom and turned the light off, rubbing his hair dry with the same towel he’d been using.

Kevin turned back to his bed and went for his bag beside it. He placed it on the bed and began to dig out some clothes. He ended up settling on a pair of burgundy sweatpants and a white short sleeved shirt Andrew had bought him for his birthday that said, _‘Kiss My Asperger’s.’_

The shirt embarrassed him at first, but recently, the joke had grown on him.

He took both, along with some socks, to the bathroom to change.

The steam had all but gone as he ended up staring at his reflection.

There were a few times in the past month when he had forgotten he was no longer branded, then was surprised by a stranger looking back at him from the mirror; one that had his same dark hair and green eyes, but with a statement queen chess piece upon his cheekbone where a two had once been.

He did not fear his reflection the way Neil did. That didn’t mean he liked it. His queen piece had both helped and made things worse.

Now that Riko was gone, he supposed, given time, his anxiety would fade. Fan outrage would settle, and people would move on. Neil already had.

If anyone wasn’t out of the woods yet, however, it was Neil and himself, as well as Jean.

Kevin finished changing and took his pyjamas to put back in his bag.

Wymack was fully dressed in a deep orange wifebeater and his shoes.

“Shoes on,” he said, “we’ll drop off Stand By Me on the way there.”

Within ten minutes, they’d packed, checked out, and were climbing back into the car.

Kevin watched as Wymack tugged his seat belt, again, but avoided the subject.

The tape started up as they drove out onto the road.

“What’d I say?” said Wymack, “Chuck Berry.”

“You want brownie points or something?” asked Kevin.

“Oh, I don’t need brownie points,” Wymack grinned, “the satisfaction of being right is enough for me.”

Kevin would have been lying if he tried to claim he didn’t relate to that statement. Unfortunately, most of the time the only one who noticed when Kevin was right was himself.

They stopped off at the Blockbuster to return the DVD, then were back on the road.

“Who _is ‘Johnny’_?” Kevin wondered, aloud.

Wymack shrugged. “It might be a real person, might not be. Like how _‘American Pie’_ doesn’t mean anything. Musicians sure are cryptic bastards.”

It wasn’t long before they pulled into the parking lot of Sandy’s; a small 50’s themed diner, with a red Cadillac on the roof, and a black and white checkboard pattern running around the outside of the building.

When they headed inside, they were greeted by a smiling life-sized cardboard blonde waitress, with a speech bubble that said, ‘ _Please wait here to be seated!’_

Whoever had drawn her had thrown realistic human proportion out of the window, because her waist was synched in to the extreme, and her legs took up much of her figure. She wore bright red lipstick and a matching skimpy uniform that showed off her plump breasts.

A moment later, a real waitress (one with a much more average body type) came over to them.

“Good mornin’, boys!” she drawled, “just the two of you?”

“Yes, please” Wymack replied.

They followed her to a booth at the front beside the windows.

The seats were as red as everything else in the diner, save for the walls, floor, and tables.

The walls were painted an off-white, with old photos and newspaper clippings framed everywhere, the floor shared the checked patterned of the exterior, and the tables were metallic silver, each with a mini jukebox that played a song per quarter.

Their waitress handed them menus, still smiling wide. Kevin figured she’d be grateful to get away from them while they decided what to eat, so she could rest her face.

Once she left them, Wymack caught his attention.

“Anything you like,” he said, “my treat.”

Kevin arched a brow. “You know I can afford my own food? I could probably buy this entire diner if I wanted to.”

“It wouldn’t be that much of an investment,” said Wymack, eyeing the few others eating there; a family of five with two children and a baby seated a little further back, an old man sitting alone with a newspaper and a coffee, and three teenage girls loudly chatting amongst themselves.

“Besides,” Wymack continued, “I said it’s my treat. You let me worry about money on this trip.”

“Seriously?” Kevin scoffed.

“I’m on vacation with my boy, _seriously_.”

He wanted to keep arguing, but something swelled in Kevin’s chest when Wymack called him _‘his boy,’_ and so the subject was dropped.

He studied the menu for the breakfast options. He settled on pancakes with maple syrup and bacon, with a large vanilla milkshake to drink.

The waitress came back with her cheek stretching smile and took their orders. Wymack ordered the same, except with a root beer float.

As Kevin watched her walk away, he noticed, over his shoulder, that the teenage girls were looking at him. They quickly glanced away when he turned around and began to whisper and laugh.

It made Kevin’s stomach twist.

“You feeling alright?” Wymack asked when he turned back.

“The girls behind me were looking at me” he said.

“They’re girls,” Wymack said, “they see a boy, they stare, it’s what they do.”

Kevin supposed there was truth to that statement, but his brain still buzzed like a computer that had overheated.

Fifteen minutes later, their food arrived, and Kevin occupied himself with his breakfast.

He could still hear the girls’ laughter.

“What’s the plan for today?” he asked, hoping to drown it out with conversation.

Wymack finished his mouthful before replying. “More driving. We’ll probably have another stop or two for leg stretching. I think we’ll save most of our sightseeing for L.A.”

“Fair enough” said Kevin.

He hugged his milkshake to his chest as he drank through the straw. How, exactly, a milkshake was going to protect him from a group of teenagers, he didn’t know, but it somehow helped to have something to hold onto.

Both their pancakes where long finished when the waitress came for their plates.

“Want anything else?” asked Wymack.

Kevin shook his head. What he wanted was to drink his milkshake and leave the sniggering teenagers behind.

Unfortunately for him, the milkshake was unbelievably thick, which normally wasn’t a problem, except he was in a hurry, and wanted to make the most out of Wymack’s money.

He exhaled deeply through his nose as he drank.

A hand touched his shoulder.

He looked up.

“Excuse me,” said the girl, “I’m sorry to disturb y’all, but… but are you Kevin Day?”


	10. Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, unless you're reading this fic for the first time, you may have noticed I've been gone for a while.  
> I've been dealing with the unsettling reality that people are OK with shipping family members together...  
> A lot of people have been blocked on Tumblr, let me tell you that.  
> Anyway, if you yourself are someone who has no problem with incest, with all due respect, you need to take your fast car and keep on driving.  
> Unfortunately, AO3 has no block button, but know that if you comment on any of my fics, the comment will be deleted. Comments from people I know condone incest have already been deleted from this fic.
> 
> Now, on a lighter note, I've put the song at the end of the chapter this time, so you can read, then listen, it'll make more sense, I promise!

Kevin blinked up at the strawberry blonde girl, quickly taking in her brown eyes and freckled cheeks, before he could find the words.

“Yes” he said, forcing himself to make eye contact and switching to his ‘press voice.’

It was the voice that forced him to smother any hint of an Irish drawl, one to make middleclass America forget he wasn’t born here. Jean had kept his French accent out of spite, but Kevin had not been so daring.

He listened as she inhaled sharply through the nose.

“Sorry, I’m just a big fan. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Kevin slid upwards, so that he was sat in the booth facing her with one leg under him.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he replied, armed with his celebrity smile and straighten back. He held out his right hand to her and added, “it’s nice to meet you, Miss?”

She shook his hand and blushed, “Caroline. It’s an honour to meet you. That goal of yours in the final was amazing! Your new team sure owes a lot to you, huh?”

Well, at least someone thought so. Kevin hadn’t even got so much as a pat on the back from the Foxes.

“Thank you so much,” Kevin forced a laugh, “really, it was a team effort, it always is.”

Caroline bit her lip, glanced to the floor, then back up at him. “I’m so sorry about Riko, I’ve been keeping you in my prayers. I hope you’ve been alright.”

Kevin had a feeling this was coming, so, when it did, he performed the solemn nod he’d been mentally rehearsing, letting his smile drop.

“Thank you” he said, softly.

He meant it. This girl was just like any other outsider who thought Riko’s death was suicide, and he did genuinely appreciate her concern, even if it was misplaced.

“I just… I can’t imagine losing someone like that.” Then she sighed and said, “I’m sorry, it’s probably the last thing you want to talk about.”

She glanced over to Wymack, seemingly noticing him for the first time.

“Is this your coach?”

Kevin relaxed a little at the subject change.

“Yes,” he said. He took a deep breath before adding, “and my father.”

“Coach Wymack, Palmetto State” Wymack introduced himself, offering a hand out to Caroline, which she happily took.

“My gosh, yes, I remember now! Pleasure to meet you, sir!” She shook his hand enthusiastically, even giving a teeny curtsy as she did. 

“It’s him you should bow to,” Wymack grinned as he pointed to Kevin with his free hand, “he’s your queen.”

“Please don’t” Kevin laughed, shooting Wymack a brief side eyed glare.

“I should’ve known you were his dad, you look so alike.”

Wymack shrugged as they released hold of each other’s hands. “He’s got his mother’s eyes.”

Caroline nodded, “I’ve seen Coach Day in pictures, yes! But I think it’s… well, you have the same face.”

Kevin found himself locking eyes with Wymack.

He had always been able to see they had the same complexion. Now that someone had brought it up, though, Kevin couldn’t un-see what Caroline meant.

Wymack’s face was wider and older with dark brown eyes, yet his face was familiar. The curve of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the thickness of his brows, even the line of his mouth where all things Kevin saw in his own reflection.

It was then that a thought struck Kevin; one day, he was going to look in the mirror, and see David Wymack looking straight back at him.

“I’m curious,” said Caroline, breaking the silence, “what made you choose the queen for your new tattoo? I mean, I would’ve thought you’d want the king, or a knight, maybe? I don’t actually play chess, so I don’t know.”

For a split second, Kevin was leaned back against the wall of his dorm, drunk on cider and new-found pride with Neil gazing at his fresh ink in awe.

He couldn’t remember exactly what he said, but he would always remember what he felt.

Everything in his head went quiet.

“I am no king,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t realise until he finished the next part of his sentence that he was talking as himself, “I hold so much more power than that.”

Caroline stood in silence. Kevin wasn’t sure if she was waiting for him to expand on that, or if she was just stunned.

Wymack glanced between her and Kevin, waiting for a development. There wasn’t one, until Caroline cleared her throat and said, “I see, I better brush up on my chess trivia. Well, I should be getting back to my friends, but, um…”

She fumbled in a small bag Kevin hadn’t noticed her carrying. He watched her pull out a notebook and pen.

“If it’s OK, could I…” she trailed off.

Kevin smiled, again. “Of course,” he said, bringing back his fake voice.

Caroline smiled back, then flipped open to an empty page and handed him the pen.

He was about to take it, when he realised, he was reaching out with his right hand. He let it fall to his lap, and instead, took the pen in his left.

As well as Exy, writing had been a challenge. Writing with his less dominant hand meant that his handwriting had become terrible, but he could barely hold a pen or pencil in his left long enough to put anything down on paper.

He braced himself.

The pen made contact with the page, and Kevin gripped as tight as he could.

 _Come on,_ he told himself in his head, _if you can hold a racquet, you can hold a pen._

His jaw clenched as he scribbled down his name.

At Evermore, they’d encouraged him to write his first initial, then surname, to save time for more autographs.

Kevin was feeling a little more ambitious and ended up writing his entire first name.

When he was done, he let himself take in his work.

He recognised his own writing again, even if it was still a bit messy.

Caroline took her pen and notebook and put them back in her bag.

“Thank you, so much. It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

“You too, Caroline” Kevin said, with a real smile.

“And you, Coach Wymack” she added.

“Take care, kiddo” Wymack nodded.

Caroline gave Kevin one last smile, saying, “best of luck in the Fall, I look forward to next season, have a nice day.” Then, she slowly turned, and walked back to her table, her entourage eagerly waiting her return.

Kevin didn’t watch her sit back down, but he heard their squeals as they teased her.

He still felt on edge, so distracted himself with the last of his milkshake.

Within five minutes, the bill was payed, and the two men exited the diner and climbed back into Wymack’s car.

No sooner than the doors were shut, Wymack let out a small laugh.

“You really got the ladies falling over themselves, huh?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Kevin sighed, folding his arms.

“At least she was nice” said Wymack.

“Yeah” Kevin agreed.

The car went quiet, with only the sound of Wymack clicking his seatbelt in to fill the vacuum of noise.

Kevin felt words inside his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to articulate them.

The tape picked up where it left off, and once again, Kevin was in the dark over who was singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIOAlaACuv4


	11. Escape (The Piña Colada Song) - Rupert Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrNFEmAeblI

“I thought you wanted me to stop drinking?” Kevin joked.

“This is a good song, you little shit” said Wymack, “it’s got nothing to do with your alcoholism.”

Kevin rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat.

Sandy’s Diner was a distant memory by now, but the exchange they’d had with Caroline was still playing on repeat in Kevin’s mind. Not the worst fan interaction he’d ever had; certainly not the best either.

He didn’t hold anything against her, really.

Though he was on the receiving end more often than not, his first-time meeting Jeremy Knox had caused a role reversal. The surprised stare on Jeremy’s face when Kevin approached him first was something Kevin’s subconscious went back to all the time.

Riko had dragged him away after only a minute and told him they weren’t here for chit-chat. He’d done that a lot in their time together.

“Isn’t this song about cheating?” asked Kevin.

Wymack gave a soft laugh. “I don’t think that’s the point.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Wymack grunted as he gave his back a stretch, “the narrator of the song and his… wife, girlfriend, whatever… have both stopped trying to make the relationship work, so they both individually have the idea to run off with someone more exciting. What never occurred to them, was to find out if the other was up for spicing things up, which they were.”

He shrugged. “A relationship only lasts if both people are prepared to make it work. When even one of them decides they can’t be bothered to try, anymore, it’s over.

“Honestly, it’s a cycle. You get bored of one partner, so you find another one, but the exact same thing is just going to keep happening. You don’t put in the effort, so when things become less exciting, you give up. It’s why some people are just doomed to be single forever, Kev.”

He paused and looked over to Kevin. Then, he shrugged, again, and looked back at the road.

“Or maybe it’s a fun party song about Piña Coladas. What do I know?”

“No, I-” Kevin started. “I see where you’re coming from.”

Wymack gave a small nod, acknowledging the comment.

Kevin thought about the open relationship his parents had. Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed to him that his mother was much happier with it than his father was.

Nicky and his boyfriend, Erik, had an open relationship, and that’s what worked for them. The distance made them lonely, he supposed.

Himself and Thea… well, that was a little complex. They were an item; however, had not exchanged such titles as boyfriend and girlfriend, yet. That made his relationship a bit more like Neil and Andrew’s.

He pulled out his phone and checked his inbox.

There was still no word from Andrew, and Kevin quickly sent him a text in frustration.

The two unread texts left were from Thea and Jeremy. Neither of them that remarkable, just idle chat.

_Hey_ , he texted Thea, _can I call you when we next stop? Nothing’s wrong, I just want to hear your voice._

He slipped the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and turned back to Wymack.

“How did the relationship between you and mom start?” he asked.

Wymack wetted his lips and sighed. “I don’t remember the exact moment we became a thing, I think it was a couple of months into her teaching me Exy. I’d made a few weak attempts at flirting that ended up working, for reasons beyond my understanding.”

It was reassuring to hear that Wymack was no better at sweet-talk than Kevin was.

“She taught the way you do, you know,” Wymack laughed, “thought she always did it with a smile, and she’d force me to wake up at ungodly hours of the morning to train.”

“And you still fell for her?” Kevin scoffed.

Wymack smiled, softly. “She was so much more upbeat than I ever have been, but I always felt like we understood one another. The best piece of non-Exy related advice she ever gave me was, _‘never kill yourself in someone else’s house. It’s uncivilised.’_ I forget what prompted it. I think about it, a lot.”

Kevin somehow wasn’t surprised at his mother’s dark sense of humour.

“What was the best Exy related advice?” he asked.

“God, now, there’s a question,” Wymack said, thoughtfully, “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

Kevin was about to drift back inside his own head, when Wymack prompted, “what about you? She ever give you advice? Exy or other?”

“I remember _you_ always telling me to have fun with Exy,” said Kevin, “all I ever heard from you when you came to a little league was to have fun because my mother would want that.”

“You never were a fan of that advice” Wymack sighed.

Kevin mulled over his reply for a moment, then explained, slowly, “it was more I didn’t like- I didn’t think it mattered. She’s gone, and I was in Moriyama’s care. I did not want to think about what my dead mother would have apparently wanted. That is not how Coach Moriyama raised me.”

After a brief silence, Wymack gave a low hum in response.

Kevin swallowed, trying not to let his throat tighten, and said, “thank you, for coming to my games.”

“I would have come to all of them, if I could” said Wymack.

“I know” Kevin smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting to put this song on the playlist oof.


	12. Bicycle Race - Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xt0V0_1MS0Q

They found themselves in slow traffic a few miles up the road, and Kevin was grateful for the return of Freddie.

Wymack drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, the same way he drummed on his folded arms when he was waiting for the team to be quiet, with his jaw clenched and eyes hooded.

Kevin eyed his father’s arms, from his veiny hands to his tribal flame tattoos. Then, he looked at his own for comparison.

His was significantly less bulky and hairy than Wymack’s, not to mention the jagged scars that ran over his left hand. He thought that his scars almost matched Wymack’s plump veins.

The older he got, the more he would look like his father. He was perfectly OK with that.

How did Wymack feel, though? He never talked about the way they looked alike; he was always comparing Kevin to Kayleigh.

Neither of them had seen their own resemblance before, not past the colour of their skin.

Kevin began to think that, maybe, Wymack would only ever see him as Kayleigh’s son. Wymack was trying to be Kevin’s father… but did he want to be?

“Tell me,” Wymack said, “how important do you think it is to know the meaning of a song?”

It was so out of left field, Kevin had to take a minute to process the question.

“Huh,” Kevin blinked, “well, I-” he rubbed his hand over his face, then ran his fingers through his hair “-I think that… why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking about what we were talking about a few miles back,” Wymack said, nonchalantly, “people enjoy Rupert Holmes singing about drinks without thinking about possible subtext. I wondered if you wanted to weight in some more.”

“I see.”

He sat up and gave his arms a stretch above his head. “I think that music can be enjoyed without knowing the meaning behind it, but I also think that certain pieces are enjoyable because of their context.”

“Go on” Wymack prompted.

“Do you actually want me to talk?” asked Kevin, “because I _will_ talk.”

“Why the fuck would I ask your opinion if I didn’t want it?”

Kevin wasn’t used to anyone asking for an opinion, probably because they knew he would just give one, anyway.

“I talk for a long time” Kevin said.

“You? _Never_ ,” Wymack answered dryly, “you never have _anything_ to contribute during practice.”

“I’m just warning you that what I am about to say is going to essentially be a spoken essay.”

Wymack groaned. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. _Talk_. Speak your mind. Make conversation. Tell me your thoughts. _I’m waiting_.”

He wanted to tell Wymack that he didn’t need to try so hard, but Kevin was causing enough unnecessary drama as it was. So, he pulled one leg up, so that his foot could rest on the knee of his left leg and got comfortable.

“There is a musical suite of fourteen songs called The Carnival of the Animals, or _Le carnaval des animaux_ , as it is originally called in French. It was written by Camille Saint-Saens in 1886. Each song, or ‘movement’, is about a certain group of animals; lions, swans, fish, and so on and so forth. The songs don’t need to be listened to together, or with any knowledge of the imagery that they portray through music. However, the whole concept behind the suite is that the songs create specific images in your mind, almost like Peter and The Wolf, except Carnival of the Animals isn’t telling a specific story. Or, at least, not one that I remember.”

“I see,” said Wymack, his eyes still on the road, “so, what you’re saying is that sometimes knowing the meaning is important to the experience of listening to it?”

“Yes” said Kevin.

“And what do you think this song is about?” Wymack asked.

“I think it’s about a bicycle race, coach” Kevin replied.

“I think you’re right about that.”

Then, Wymack bit down on his lower lip.

“You don’t have to call me that, not while we’re away from the court. Unless, that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

Even though Kevin had known this conversation would come up sooner or later, he still didn’t feel ready for it.

He had referred to Wymack as _‘dad’_ in his head many times since finding his mother’s letter; often switching between _‘Wymack,’ ‘David’_ and _‘coach’_ when he didn’t feel like using it. It had become easier to say that Wymack was his dad aloud as a fact.

But the idea of actually calling him that word to his face, or at all, left Kevin feeling as though multiple people had pulled the fire alarm in the same building.

Instead of replying to Wymack’s comment, Kevin pulled out his phone.

Thea had texted him to tell him he could call in within the next two hours; after that, she was getting lunch with friends and didn’t know when she’d be back.

Andrew was still silent.

“Still no word from the lovers?” asked Wymack.

“They _love_ ignoring me” Kevin groaned.

Wymack reached over to the car stereo and paused the tape. “Call them and put them on speaker, don’t say anything until I have.”

Confused, Kevin did as he was told. He hit speed dial and held the phone between himself and Wymack.

It rang for some time, before it went to voicemail.

“Call again” said Wymack.

Kevin did.

It rang for a few moments, then, _“have I not made it clear enough that I am ignoring you? Converse with your father or I will retrieve your laptop from your room, take it to the roof and drop it over the edge, is that clear enough for you? Now, what do you want?”_

“To make sure you’re not dead, _ass-wipe_ ,” Wymack spat, turning his head towards the phone, “I’m not some omniscient god who knows where you are and what you’re doing at all times, and I’m too busy driving to text you, myself. I know Josten is allergic to his phone, but one of you better _goddamn reply_ when asked for updates, you understand me, Minyard? Also, you break _anything_ , you are fucking paying for a replacement. It takes five seconds out of your very busy schedule to let me know you two are still in one piece. _Get over yourself_.”

Kevin’s jaw went slack.

There was only white noise from the phone before, finally, Andrew spoke.

_“Why, hello, coach. It’s so nice to hear your voice, I have missed it. What have you done with Kevin?”_

“I’m right here” Kevin spoke up.

_“Ah,”_ said Andrew, _“had to get daddy dearest to stand up to the nasty boys ignoring you?”_

“How about you just confirm you two are alive, so you can fuck off back to whatever better thing you had to do before _‘daddy dearest’_ interrupted it” Wymack snapped.

_“Neil and I are most certainly alive, Mr. Coach, sir”_ said Andrew.

“Good,” said Wymack, “stay out of trouble and keep your phones on.”

_“Bye, bye, Kevin!”_ Andrew called, then hung up.

Wymack turned the tape back on with a sigh. “Remind me to let Abby know he’s volunteered to scrub her bathroom for a week.”


	13. What's Up - 4 Non Blondes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NXnxTNIWkc

Kevin sat, slightly stunned.

His phone buzzed with a message from Andrew.

_“So, you and coach **are** talking. How nice.”_

“Is that him?” asked Wymack, “what does he say?”

Kevin read the text aloud.

“What should I say back?”

“Ignore him,” said Wymack, flexing his fingers against the wheel, “he just wants to get a rise out of you, and he probably won’t reply, anyway.”

Kevin arched a brow.

“So,” said Wymack, “where were we?”

“Song meanings” said Kevin.

“Right,” Wymack nodded.

Kevin wracked his brain for conversation starters. He felt as though he had just narrowly missed talking to Wymack about if and when Kevin was going to call him the D word.

“Sometimes, the meaning of a song depends on the listener” he said.

“That’s true,” said Wymack, “like how Billy Joel reminds us of different people.”

“Huh?” Kevin frowned.

“Yesterday, you said She’s Always a Woman-”

“Right _, right_ , I remember now.”

“Right,” echoed Wymack, “and you remember _this_ song?”.

Kevin listened to the track for a moment then replied, “I know this song.”

“Do you remember your mother singing it?”

Kevin shook his head.

“When you were very little,” said Wymack, “she would bounce you on her hip and start singing this whenever you were upset about something she couldn’t place. She wasn’t much of a singer, but at least she was always in key.”

“I see” said Kevin. “There’s a lot of songs you’ve purposefully chosen, isn’t there?”

Wymack nodded.

Kevin worked his jaw, before letting out a quiet, “thank you.”

“What for?” asked Wymack.

“For… this. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this playlist. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to” said Wymack.

Kevin merely hummed in response. Then he said, “you didn’t have to yell at Andrew for me, either.”

“Who says I did it for you?” Wymack shrugged, “after the year we’ve had, those two could get up to anything in my absence.”

“You know this, yet you still left them behind?”

“Abby’s with them, more or less,” said Wymack, “and this is our road trip, not theirs. What you and I talk about in this car is none of their business.”

Nothing about their relationship was Neil or Andrew’s business.

Kevin could warn those two about the dangers of being openly gay in the sporting world until the cows came home, but neither of them were going to listen to him.

On the other hand, if they decided they knew what was best for Kevin, there was no stopping them.

Neil threw the word ‘spineless’ at him more time than Kevin cared to remember. Kevin knew he wasn’t. Kevin was sensible. Kevin thought before he acted. Kevin gave a shit about the consequences of his actions.

Yet, somehow, Neil was the team’s favourite.

Kevin didn’t like this think of himself as a jealous person; but, then again, he had always been so good at denial.

“What is it?” Wymack asked.

“What is what?” Kevin asked back.

“You look like you belong in the Band-Aid music video,” said Wymack, “with all the sad, starving children.”

Kevin scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Wymack raised an eyebrow. “Am I not getting an answer, then?”

“I was just thinking” said Kevin.

“You do that a lot.”

“That’s more than either of us can say about Neil” Kevin replied with a hollow laugh.

Wymack gave a small nod in agreement. “That’s true. So, you’re thinking about Neil?”

“Does it matter?” Kevin sighed.

“It might,” said Wymack, “what about Neil were you thinking about?”

Kevin wasn’t in the mood to mull over his insecurities to Wymack.

Instead, he said, “do you remember the first little league game you came to?”

“I do.”

“Do you remember a new boy on my team who was trying to pick a fight with us, who you then never saw again?”

Wymack clicked his tongue a few times in thought.

After a minute, his eyes widened.

He kept his tone calm as he said, “that was Neil.”

“That was Neil” Kevin confirmed.

“What a small world” said Wymack, slumping back in his seat with his hands still on the wheel.

It wasn’t long afterwards that traffic started to move again, so they each left each other with their thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. This is that He-Man song don't @ me.  
> My mum nannies these twin baby boys, and one of them looks like Neil, no joke. I sing this song to him while bouncing him on my hip. I love them both so much T_T  
> Most likely won't update again until the new year, so look forward to that.


	14. Ironic - Alanis Morissette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jne9t8sHpUc

Five miles down the road, Wymack gave a small groan.

“What?” asked Kevin.

“I forgot I put this song on here” he replied.

Kevin frowned. “If you don’t like it then why-” he pursed his lips as he realised the answer “-my mother.”

Wymack nodded.

“There’s a pattern here” said Kevin.

“I think that was established earlier” said Wymack.

Kevin sighed, and turned his head to gaze out the window to watch the scenery (or lack thereof) go by.

“It’s not a bad song!” said Wymack, “but nothing she says in this song is ironic, it’s all just really unlucky. _That_ , in itself, is ironic.”

“True,” Kevin agreed, “ironic was Neil signing with us and getting dragged into the very conflict he spent eight years running from.”

“Ironic was me telling him he didn’t have to worry about the mob” Wymack chuckled.

“Ironic was Riko going out of his way to destroy us, only to have Ichirou kill him for recklessly acting out, among other things” Kevin muttered.

Neither of them said anything for a while after that.

Kevin had been doing his best not to think about Riko.

The night of their victory, when Neil pulled Kevin aside and told him what had happened, Kevin refused to believe it. Then, the news broke the next morning, and Kevin had been left shell-shocked.

Neil was as calm as ever, barely giving it a second thought.

It was clear how Neil and Andrew worked so well as a pair; they were seldom phased by horror, unless it was their own.

Kevin’s life for the past eleven years had been nothing but horror. When it wasn’t happening to him, it was happening to someone in proximity.

Horror and tragedy had come for his mother, for Neil, for Seth, for Andrew, for Jean. In the end, it had caught up with Riko.

Since it had been Lord Moriyama himself to kill Riko, Kevin had no real reason to be scared. There would be no punishment for this.

Perhaps it was because Riko’s death was Kevin’s punishment.

For the rest of his life, Kevin would have to play the mourning man who had lost a piece of himself the night Riko was taken from him. Kevin would have to weep for him publicly, honour his memory, pretend Riko didn’t come to him in his darkest dreams and ask, _“did you really think you could get rid of me that easily, Kevin?”_

Kevin started to crave a drink. His fingers shook and his throat dried.

“Ironic was…” Wymack began.

Kevin turned away from the window to look at his father.

Wymack chewed on his lower lip, then met Kevin’s eyes with a deep breath.

“Ironic was you coming to me, with a broken hand, and me thinking to myself… _where the hell is this kid’s father when he needs him?_ ”

Kevin’s fingers went still.

“Right where I needed him” Kevin found himself saying.

“Should’ve been there sooner” Wymack smiled, sadly.

“There was nothing you could have done about the Moriyamas,” said Kevin, “I keep telling you not to beat yourself up over this. Every time you had a chance to help me, you did.”

For a long time, Wymack didn’t answer. He had a familiar look on his face that said he was thinking of the best way to reply.

“There was nothing you could have done about my mother, either,” Kevin added “she was stubborn.”

Wymack laughed and nodded, “like mother like son.”

“I learned from the best” said Kevin.

“She barely accepted anyone’s help” Wymack sighed.

“She didn’t want to be seen as weak” said Kevin.

The car broke suddenly for a moment. Kevin jolted forward then back in his seat with a soft thud.

“What the hell?” Kevin cried, shooting a glance at Wymack.

Wymack’s jaw was tense. He returned Kevin’s stare and said, “there is nothing weak about accepting help.”

Kevin opened his mouth, left his jaw slack for a second, then shook his head.

“I didn’t mean…” he trailed off.

“As long as you know” said Wymack.

“I do.”

“Let me hear you say it.”

Kevin blinked. He wetted his lips and repeated, “there is nothing weak about accepting help.”

Wymack gave a small nod. “Good boy.”

Kevin decided he was done with talking for now.

“I think I’ll take a nap” he said.

“Already?”

“There’s not much else to do.”

“Suit yourself.”

Wymack pressed stop on the tape. “I’ll put it back on when you wake.”

“Don’t you want to listen to it?” Kevin frowned.

“I want to listen to it with you,” said Wymack, “it’s _for_ you.”

“Oh” said Kevin.

Now that he thought about it, that was obvious.


	15. Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KdBCFclSC0

He woke with a start, lashing out his hand and hitting the car door with a thud.

“Kevin?” he heard Wymack ask.

It took him a moment to remind himself where he was.

He was in his father’s car, on the way to L.A to see Jeremy and Jean.

He was not in the Nest with a broken left hand.

“Kevin?” Wymack asked, again.

“What time is it?” Kevin mumbled.

There was a pause.

“Almost four in the afternoon,” said Wymack, “you sure do nap for a long time. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, _yeah_ ” said Kevin.

He was safe.

“We’ll be there soon,” Wymack continued, “I’m just about to stop for more gas, then we’ll be back on the interstate.”

Kevin took in deep breaths through his nose, then exhaled them out of his mouth. He’d be glad to get out of the car, it was starting to make him claustrophobic.

As he slowly came back to full consciousness, the anxiety he’d been trying to put off began to settle in.

He was going to see Jean again, _soon_.

The image of Jean lying in bed in Abby’s house, beaten and broken, was so burned into Kevin’s memory, he could swear he saw it behind his eyelids.

He almost wanted to call the whole thing off, beg Wymack to turn the car around, tell Jeremy that something came up…

“ _Hey_.”

The car had stopped and Wymack’s hand was on Kevin’s shoulder.

“Are we at the gas station?” Kevin asked.

“No,” said Wymack, “you just looked really freaked out. Is everything OK?”

Kevin scoffed. “Is anything ever?”

“I’m asking if you feel OK at this moment” said Wymack, squeezing Kevin’s shoulder. “Do you?”

Kevin chewed his lower lip, then shook his head.

“You wanna talk about it?” Wymack asked.

Kevin shook his head, again.

“OK,” said Wymack, “it’s only another mile for gas. We can have a breather there.”

He restarted the car, giving Kevin one last careful look before driving off.

Kevin bounced his leg vigorously. He knew Wymack hated it when Kevin did that in the car, but no complaint was made. Instead, Wymack reached forward and turned the tape back on.

“I’m scared” said Kevin.

Wymack clenched his jaw, in the way that he did when he was worried.

“What’re you scared of?” Wymack asked softly.

“I’m scared of seeing Jean again. I’m scared that he hates me.”

“He doesn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Wymack, “Renee- I sometimes catch the things that she says to Allison.”

Wymack swallowed, then continued. “I heard her a few days before summer vacation started. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but she made a passing comment about how…”

His voice trailed off.

Kevin waited for him to pick his sentence back up. Wymack was staring off into the distance, again.

“How what?” said Kevin.

Wymack sighed. “How he… about how _he’s_ scared. He’s convinced himself he just need to suck it up or whatever.”

He looked over to Kevin solemnly.

“He needs you, Kev.”

Kevin’s heart skipped a beat.

“… Is this where you got the idea for this road trip?”

“Yes, but also no,” said Wymack. “My original idea was to put us on a plane to L.A.”

That would’ve been much more practical. It certainly would’ve left less room for Kevin to get cold feet.

It would also have meant Kevin spent less time with his father.

When the trip began, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone with Wymack and stuck in a car for hours with him.

The truth was, however, that Kevin was painfully aware of how he couldn’t always be the center of Wymack’s attention.

Wymack was everyone’s dad, it was part of his charm, and another reason Kevin had been afraid to tell him the truth. He knew it would leave Wymack conflicted over his responsibilities. He was a full-time coach and, as long as it wasn’t above his paygrade, he was also a parent to eight other young adults. Kevin realised he liked the feeling of not having to share his father with the rest of the team for a while.

“I like this idea better,” he told Wymack, “I wouldn’t get to listen to your music, otherwise.”

Wymack cracked a smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

“I’m glad you like my music” he said.

They eventually pulled into a friendlier looking gas station than the one they had stopped at yesterday. It was cleaner, busier, less like a crime scene waiting to happen.

“Coffee?” Wymack asked as he undid his seat-belt.

“Please” said Kevin. He didn’t need it to stay awake, his nerves were taking care of that just fine. He just wanted his mother’s scent to comfort him.

As long as he had things to help ground him, he would be OK. He could get through this.

And that’s when he remembered.

“ _Shit_.”

He fumbled for his mobile and grabbed the car door handle to shove it open.

“What is it?” Wymack asked.

“I forgot to call Thea,” Kevin explained on his way out of the car. “Go, do your thing, I’ll be stretching my legs.”


	16. Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of the chapters where the song is in the end notes.

Kevin paced a few yards from the car and hit speed dial.

He held it to his ear and listened to it ring and ring and ring again.

It went to voice mail.

“ _Shit_ ” he hissed.

He wondered if he should try again, or if that would make him look even more like an idiot.

After a minute, he did.

This time, it only took a few rings before: _“you’re late.”_

“I fell asleep in the car” he explained.

_“I figured you were talking to your dad,”_ she said, _“having an emotional heart-to-heart, wasn’t that the point?”_

“We _have_ been talking, I just took a break from it; it’s exhausting.”

_“Hm”_ she hummed.

“How was lunch?”

_“It was good. Rachel’s sister is having a gender reveal party next week and she asked me if I wanted to go. I said no, obviously, because who the hell throws a party to announce if their unborn child has a dick or not? I don’t give a shit what colour you’re painting the nursery, Shannon, the kid won’t know the difference.”_

Kevin laughed. “I never got that concept, either. I know I’d play Exy whatever I was.”

_“But you wouldn’t have so many fangirls, Kevin”_ she teased.

“I might,” he said, “you don’t know what lesbians like.”

_“Barely any girls like you as you are”_ said Thea.

“Then what are you?” asked Kevin, annoyed.

_“Out of my mind, I guess,”_ she sighed. _“I’m only slightly joking, but a lot of things about you are things only a mother could love.”_

Kevin frowned. “Like what?”

_“Like, how you think you’re better at things than you actually are.”_ Thea gave a giggle from the other end and sighed. _“You still fuck like a virgin.”_

His skin began to burn.

Thea wasn’t the person he’d lost his virginity to, but she was the person with whom he’d been with the most.

She, however, had had a four-year head start from him, and in the Nest; casual sex was just a part of life for the team. He still had memories of seeing her feverously kiss her teammates in the corridors when he was a teenager. He tried not to let it get to him, but when she made comments like these, it was all he could think about.

“Funny as always, dear” he mumbled.

_“I try,”_ she said. _“You had any replies from Andrew yet?”_

“Only when coach made me call him to chew him out.”

_“Ahh, good. You stood up to him.”_

Kevin shook his head, even though he knew she wouldn’t see. “It was coach who chewed him out.”

_“I see,”_ she said. _“I don’t know why you put up with it, Kevin, he’s an arrogant bastard.”_

“Oh, yes, absolutely. I never said he wasn’t-” He saw a bench a few feet away, so began to walk towards it. “- but it’s like I’ve told you, I’ll wear him down. The man has a talent, and I’ll be fucking damned if I’m going to let him toss it aside.”

He reached the bench and sat down.

“I know I’m not the most persuasive person,” he said, “but I’m nothing if not persistent. Besides, I think thanks to Neil, I may be able to get through to him. I’ll make court out of him yet. Him and Neil.”

_“Whatever you say, babe. Just don’t let them make a fool out of you.”_

He crossed one leg over the other and rested his elbow on his knee.

“I won’t.”

Wymack was making his way back to the car with two cups of coffee. He spotted Kevin and raised a cup in greeting.

“Coach is back, I should get going. We’re not far from L.A now.”

_“Give Jean my love”_ said Thea.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it” he replied, dryly. “Speak soon, love you.”

_“Bye, Kevin.”_

“Bye.”

Kevin hung up, slid his phone back into his pocket and made his way back to Wymack.

“How was she?” he asked when Kevin reached him.

Kevin shrugged. “Same as always.”

He held out his hand for his coffee, and Wymack handed it to him.

“Ready?” Wymack asked.

Kevin nodded.

Wymack walked round the front of the car while Kevin climbed back in. He opened the driver seat door and handed Kevin his coffee so that he could belt himself (again, with a few securing tugs) then held Kevin’s coffee so that he could do the same.

“OK,” said Wymack, looking over to him, “not long now.”

“Not long now” Kevin repeated.

“How’re we feeling?”

“OK” said Kevin.

Wymack nodded. “OK is OK.”

Kevin nodded back.

The smell of coffee was cathartic for him, bringing him back to a safer reality where he was in the care of his parents who loved him.

He reminded himself he wasn’t seeing Jean alone, that his father was here with him and that his mother’s presence existed in stimulus.

_‘Things only a mother could love,’_ Thea had said.

She certainly hadn’t helped in the way Kevin had hoped, but whatever problems he was having with his love life were the least of his worries right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ul-cZyuYq4


	17. Disco 2000 - Pulp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJS3xnD7Mus

Wymack turned up the volume as soon as he heard the first few notes.

“Now, this song is a fucking classic” he said with a smile.

Kevin recognised the song but wouldn’t have been able to name it if asked.

He stared out of the window, watching the other cars speed by and the sky turn to a brilliant aqua blue.

Summer in California had a different feel to it than in South Carolina, and both felt different to Virginia. Then again, back at the Nest, Summer was spent inside, as was every other season.

Summer in Ireland, he remembered, was the most different out of all of them. He liked it the best, but that was maybe because Ireland was where Kayleigh was, and anywhere his mother was, was a good place to be.

All that being said, his favourite season would always be the Fall.

Fall was when the Exy year began, and when the leaves turned all of his favourite colours, and when the air was cool and crisp.

Summer made him restless. He didn’t know how to relax, didn’t know if he had it in him. He certainly wasn’t relaxed right now.

“Who is this song by?” he asked, looking over at his father.

“A British pop-band called Pulp,” said Wymack, “lead singer’s name is Jarvis Cocker. Known for drunkenly crashing Michael Jackson’s performance at the Brit Awards. Do you remember that?”

“Not really” said Kevin.

“Must’ve been past your bedtime,” Wymack shrugged. He chewed his lip for a moment, then added, “it was a couple of months before your mother died.”

“OK” said Kevin.

He sat back and returned to staring out of the window.

“How long now?” he asked.

“Depends on traffic,” Wymack replied, “but we’re well over the border into Cali. You might wanna text Jeremy, just to give him a heads up.”

Kevin pulled out his phone and went to messages.

His inbox was empty, as to be expected. He typed out a short message for Jeremy, then sent Andrew one to let him know, too; not that he or Neil would give a damn.

Amongst his musing, something came to mind.

“Have you ever heard of A Goofy Movie?” he asked.

Wymack raised an eyebrow. “Have I heard of what?”

“A Goofy Movie,” Kevin repeated, “it’s a Disney film, about Goofy and his son.”

“I see,” Wymack said, “no, never heard of it. Why? I never took you for a Disney fan.”

“I’m not. Not really. It was just something Andrew brought up before I left. It’s a road trip movie, a father-son road trip movie.”

“Ahhh,” said Wymack. “So, Andrew was saying that I’m Goofy?”

“What? _No._ He just reference the movie, because of the road trip aspect,” Kevin explained. “Why would you be Goofy?”

Wymack scoffed, “I don’t know how that guy’s mind works. He could compare me to, I don’t know, Bugs Bunny, and I’d trust that it made some sense in that funny little brain of his.”

Kevin was fairly sure that Bugs was not, in fact, Disney property, but quite frankly did not care enough to have this debate. Cartoons were not his expertise, or pop culture in general.

His phone buzzed with a text from Jeremy:

_Great! Look forward to seeing you both!_

Kevin smiled.

“That Jeremy?” Wymack asked.

“Definitely not Andrew” Kevin scoffed.

Wymack laughed. “Yeah, no text from Andrew could get you to smile like that.”

Kevin felt his cheeks flush, and quickly put his phone away.

“I have a girlfriend” he mumbled.

“I know,” said Wymack, “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

Kevin gave his father a searching look.

Did he know? Did he know Kevin liked guys?

Kevin had always done his best not to be obvious about it, but had long since grown out of denial. The way he saw it, as safer as it was to be a heterosexual in the world of sport, lying to himself was redundant.

Especially since, when they were younger, he and Jean…

He began to bounce his leg, staring down at his lap in silence.

“You OK?” Wymack asked.

Kevin nodded.

The car fell back into silence for a few moments. Then, Wymack spoke again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not your fault,” Kevin said, softly, “just complicated.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kevin shook his head.

“OK. Well… the offer’s still there, if you change your mind” Wymack said.

He reached over a hand and gave Kevin’s shoulder a quick squeeze before placing it back on the wheel.

“You know that you’re not above my pay-grade.”

Kevin didn’t reply. He just stared out of the window, trying to distract himself from his inner monologue.


	18. The Girl with the Flaxen Hair - Claude Debussy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOxJpPiFe0k
> 
> Quick note: this chapter goes a little into Wymack's backstory. You can read more about it from Nora herself here: http://korakos.tumblr.com/post/126671061477/what-happened-to-wymack-with-his-parents-i-know be warned. It's dark AF, darker than I go into here. 
> 
> I promise we're getting to Jean and Jeremy! Next chapter! Thank you so much for reading so far and keeping up for as long as you have!

The sound of gulls grew ever presence the closer they got to the coast.

Kevin hadn’t stepped foot on a beach in a while, and never one like they had in the states.

Beaches from his childhood were pebbled and cloudy, surrounded by wind and folklore.

He closed his eyes and pictured grey waves crashing against tall jagged rocks, and fishing boats off in the distance, with only glimpses of the men on board.

He wondered what Jean thought of the ocean, what it meant to him.

Jean had been born and raised in Marseille which, Kevin remembered was a port. So, Jean must have spent the little childhood he’d had on the beach.

He wondered what the beach was like in southern France; Warm, he figured, with less storms and more sailors.

Washington D.C, where his father was from, was landlocked. Wherever his grandparents where from, though, he was sure wasn’t. But he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about his paternal grandparents other than that they were islanders of some kind, from somewhere out in the Pacific.

Wymack had left home very young and didn’t like to talk about his mother and father. If Kayleigh knew anything about them, she never told Kevin.

Kevin had felt so connected to Ireland all of his life, even when he was taken from it, and by association had always felt connected to his mother.

If he could find out about his paternal heritage, maybe he would understand Wymack a little better than he did.

He figured there was no time like the present.

“What was your father like?” he asked.

No answer came.

Kevin looked over to Wymack, who still had his eyes on the road. Wymack was working his jaw again; he did that a lot.

“He wasn’t a good man” Wymack said in a low voice. Then, he met Kevin’s eyes, only for a moment, before looking back at where he was driving. “I’m afraid there’s nothing pleasant about my past. But, if you really want, I will tell you.”

“I do want,” said Kevin, “if you’re willing to tell me.”

Wymack took a deep breath and sighed.

“So,” he began, “you know I was born in D.C, yes?”

Kevin hummed in reply.

“Well, my parents moved there after they got married,” he said. “It was essentially a shot-gun wedding. My father was only a year older than you. My mother-”

He gritted his teeth.

“I told Dan this, back when she was first joining the team,” he explained, “I’m not sure why I did, I think I was trying to find some common ground with her. Telling you is harder… this is your family, too.”

“I know,” said Kevin, “that’s why I want to know. Even if it’s horrible.”

Wymack gave a nod of understanding. “OK” he said.

He flexed his fingers then gripped the steering wheel tight.

“My mother was only fifteen. Her family forced her to marry to… well, to avoid the shame of being an unmarried mother, or a victim.” He paused. “Your grandfather, to me, was the farthest thing from a good man, until I heard about the Moriyamas and Neil’s old man. I’ll tell you now, though, he was one sick son of a bitch.”

He shot Kevin a quick glance. Kevin swallowed, then spoke. “So, he wasn’t quite mafia-level violent?”

“He wasn’t in the mafia,” Wymack said, “and he didn’t go around killing anybody. He was just violent to us, well, he was most violent to my mother.” He took a deep breath. “He removed her eyes, Kev.”

Kevin sat wide eyed, blood running cold.

“I don’t know how, but I fought him and kicked him out,” he continued, “never saw him again. I moved out pretty soon after that.”

“…Why?” asked Kevin.

“My mother and I didn’t have the best relationship. It wasn’t her fault, she never should have been made to be a mother.”

Kevin bit down on his lip and began staring out of the car window again.

“She spent my whole childhood lowering my expectations for life. She always told me it didn’t matter what I did, I’d never amount to anything. I believed it for most of my life.”

“She was wrong” said Kevin.

“She was,” Wymack agreed, “but I understand where she was coming from. She couldn’t have known about Exy.”

“Or me” said Kevin.

“You are not my achievement” said Wymack. He then quickly added, “your achievements are your own. Just like how my achievements are not my parents. Sure, you got lucky in the sense of who your mother is, but you’ve worked for your own success.”

Kevin knew what Wymack meant. He wished he could verbalise what he himself was trying to say.

Instead, he listened for the gulls in the distance.


	19. Hotel California - Eagles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGhMdT_C-vQ

Kevin wasn’t sure where the phrase ‘cold feet’ came from. He imagined it being like when you dip your toes into water to check the temperature, only to find it freezing.

He found himself frantically drumming his fingers against the passenger door, trying desperately not to make it apparent to Wymack that he was panicking.

The breathing exercise Doctor Dobson had taught him was helping, if only slightly.

He was so sure he could manage this if he’d had a drink beforehand. Dobson had explained to him that alcohol was a mood enhancer, so whatever he felt before a drink would intensify the more he drank.

Still, he wished he had something to calm himself.

Back in the Nest, whenever he felt panicked, he would go to Jean. Now, Jean was the reason he was panicking.

Wymack lightly hit his shoulder to get his attention.

“I just remembered I got some candy back at the gas station,” he said, “I put it in your glove compartment, have some. You’ll feel better for it.”

So, maybe Wymack _had_ noticed Kevin’s internal freak-out.

Kevin leaned forward and opened the glove compartment finding a bar of milk chocolate and a packet of boiled sweets. He took the chocolate and ripped it open.

Apart from the candy, the only other things Wymack had in there were a folded-up map and a flashlight. This struck Kevin as odd.

He broke off a piece of chocolate and held it out to Wymack, who took it with a free hand.

“How come your cigarettes aren’t in there?” Kevin asked.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Wymack smoke in a while. Or, even if he hadn’t actually seen Wymack smoke, he’d still have the lingering smell on his clothes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed that either.

Wymack sucked on his chocolate piece and inhaled slowly. “Because I don’t need them.”

Kevin blinked. “You quit?”

“More or less,” said Wymack, “addictions not something you beat overnight. I’ve been having those mouth spray things and… mints? Or whatever. I fucking hate gum, it’s just flavoured rubber, it’s so gross.”

Kevin chewed his lower lip for a moment, then replied, “You never said.”

“It didn’t come up. Abby talked to me about it a little before the championships, I told her I’d think about it, and I did. Decided to give it up.”

“Because of me” said Kevin.

Wymack went quiet.

“Tell me I’m wrong” said Kevin.

Wymack gave him a look with a raised brow, indicating that he wasn’t going to.

Kevin sighed, breaking off another piece of chocolate for himself.

“Don’t expect me to apologise for it” said Wymack.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “I don’t.”

“Good,” said Wymack. “I have responsibilities now, you know? I-” he sighed deeply as he stared out at the road “-need to set a fucking example.”

He gave Kevin another quick glance before continuing, “I’m going to attempt to get the shitheads to quit, too, so… don’t think I’m just ganging up on you.”

“So much for your pay-grade” said Kevin as he took a bite of chocolate.

Wymack nodded. “Yeah. So much for that damn pay-grade.”

And that was the end of that conversation, for the time being.

It wasn’t until they spotted the giant sign welcoming them to Los Angeles that Wymack spoke again, and reminded Kevin he should text Jeremy a heads up.

Kevin did, then ate some more chocolate. Admittedly, it was helping. It didn’t get rid of his alcohol craving, but he was doing his best to ignore it.

Wymack shuffled in his seat, then pulled a piece of paper of out his back pocket and handed it to Kevin.

“Directions to the house,” he explained, “I need you to read them out for me.”

It was dark in the car. Luckily, years of living in the Nest had given Kevin the ability to see pretty well without the need for much light.

Through bites of chocolate and focusing on telling Wymack where to go, Kevin managed to keep his mind off his anxiety. That is, until they pulled up in the driveway of Jeremy Knox’s place.

Wymack turned off the engine and gently placed a hand on Kevin shoulder, gripping it tight.

“You got this” was all he said before the front door of the house swung open with a familiar figure standing in the doorway.

Jeremy was dressed in a deep red Trojan’s shirt and jeans, with his brown hair sticking up in odd places. He was grinning profusely as he locked eyes with Kevin.

Wymack let go of Kevin’s shoulder and gave him a small shove.

Kevin sighed deeply, but unbelted himself and climbed out of the car.

Jeremy ran up to meet him. “Hey!” he said.

“Hey” Kevin replied through a sheepish smile.

“Was the drive OK? I mean apart from traffic?”

Kevin shrugged. “The drive was fine. We got here in one piece.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy laughed, “that is the ideal outcome!”

He looked down to Kevin’s chest and let out another laugh. “I _love_ your shirt!”

Kevin had forgotten what shirt he was wearing, so had to look down as well to remind himself.

_Kiss My Asperger’s_ , it said.

“Oh, thanks” he mumbled.

“Where’d you get it? Do you know if they do, like, ADHD ones? Because that is the kind of shirt I need in my life.”

Kevin would’ve replied, if it had not been for Wymack tossing his backpack at him.

“Don’t think I’m carrying all this shit by myself.”

“Oh, I can carry it if you want, Coach” said Jeremy, reaching out a hand to Wymack, who shook his head.

“That’s very kind, but we’ll manage.”

Kevin pulled his backpack over his shoulder and knelt inside the car again to grab the remainder of the chocolate bar.

He listened as Jeremy and Wymack walked to the door, chatting about how things had been since they last saw one another. Kevin shut the car door and shuffled his way to the house.

It was very nicely decorated, nothing fancy, yet it felt sophisticated. Perhaps Kevin only thought that because he was so used to college dorms and his father’s messy apartment.

He figured he should just drop his things in the hall for now, while he got the rest of the stuff from the car, so he dropped his backpack by the staircase and pushed the bar of chocolate into the pocket of his sweatpants.

Before he could make his way back to the car, he spotted someone standing just out of his line of vision. When he turned to look, he saw Jean, standing composed with his hands in his pockets.

Jean had been given a buzzcut, so that the chunks of hair Riko had ripped out would have the chance to grow with the rest of his hair. He still had visible scars on his lips, eyebrow and cheek, and his grey eyes seemed paler contrasted with his slowly tanning skin.

Neither man made any move to close the gap between them, yet neither tried to distance themselves, either. Instead, they stared soundlessly at each other for a while, taking in each other’s presence.

“You look well” Jean muttered.

Kevin swallowed hard, then gave a small nod. “You look better than last I saw.”

“Mhmm” Jean hummed.

He wasn’t scowling at Kevin, but he wasn’t smiling, he was simply looking at him, like it made no difference if Kevin was there or not.

“I need to get my things from the car” Kevin said.

“You don’t need my permission” Jean replied with a shrug.

“I know that,” said Kevin, “I just…” He trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish. He knew Jean understood.

His gaze on Jean lingered, before he tore himself away to fetch the last of his luggage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't actually believe we're here. Even I'm surprise I got this far in writing, JFC.  
> Well, look forward to Jean and Jeremy shenanigans... and drama...


	20. Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys

Kevin awoke with the sun in his eyes. Jeremy hadn’t fully closed the curtains the night before, so the light of the morning hit him directly. He groaned, pulling the covers over his head and praying that he’d be able to fall back asleep, even for a little while.

Endless hours being stuck in a car were exhausting. He was at least grateful they’d be staying in one place for a few days.

Jeremy had insisted Kevin take the bed, saying that he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor. Kevin had given up trying to explain he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor either after a few minutes.

Sleeping in Jeremy’s bed was strange. Not a bad kind of strange, just… strange.

It was unbelievably comfortable. The mattress was softer than that the one he’d had at Evermore, or the one he had at Palmetto, _or_ the one in his room in Columbia.

He wondered if Jean had the same mattress. He wondered if Jean found it as nice as he did.

The two of them hadn’t spoken much after Kevin had gotten everything from Wymack’s car; just more idle chat over dinner and an awkward goodnight before bed. He accepted that this was how it would probably be for the rest of his stay here.

All his thinking was keeping him up, so he reluctantly parted with Jeremy’s bed and dug through his bag for clothes.

Jeremy was still asleep about a foot away from him on an inflatable mattress with his back to Kevin, his body gently rising and sinking with each breath. Kevin was momentarily distracted by it.

Eventually, he pulled out a pair of pale blue jeans and a white shirt with elbow length sleeves and a small Palmetto paw logo on a breast pocket. He also had his Trojan’s shirt with him, but it was made of thicker material, so he figured it would be better for the cool evenings.

He changed in the room, then stuffed his pyjamas under the pillow. He left as silently as he could, closing the door behind him with a gentle click, before heading downstairs.

It was quiet. He thought no one else was awake yet, so didn’t expect to find Jean sitting in the kitchen at the table, also fully dressed, and drinking out of a mug.

They met eyes, but said nothing.

Jean titled his head in a gesturing motion towards a coffee press on the counter behind him. Kevin walked around the table to it and began to open and close overhead cupboards.

He eventually found the one with cups, pulled out a mug, and poured himself some coffee.

As he went to the fridge for milk, Jean finally spoke.

“How did you manage to wake up at this time?”

“I don’t know” Kevin replied.

“I would have thought you’d enjoy being in Jeremy’s bed.”

Kevin couldn’t tell if it was a light-hearted joke or a bitter comment. He ignored it, either way.

“Is he still asleep?” Jean asked.

“Jeremy? Yes,” said Kevin as he poured in his milk, “I guess coach is, too. I haven’t seen him yet, have you?”

“No” Jean replied.

Kevin sighed, and brought his coffee over to the table where Jean was sitting. He sat across from him and took in the comforting smell of his drink between sips.

He could hear footsteps moving around upstairs, meaning someone else was up. At least it meant he wouldn’t have to be alone with Jean for too long.

Sure enough, Wymack entered the kitchen a couple of minutes later.

Kevin’s cup of coffee stopped half way to his mouth when he saw what his father was wearing: pale blue jeans and a short sleeved white shirt with a small Palmetto paw logo on the breast pocket.

Jean looked at Wymack’s outfit, then Kevin’s, then at Wymack’s again. He switched to French to say, “wardrobe coordination, how cute.”

“This wasn’t planned” Kevin mumbled back, hiding behind his coffee.

Jean smiled. Kevin expected to see vindictiveness on his lips, yet found none.

Jeremy showed up about an hour later, wearing knee length shorts and a mustard yellow shirt.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he laughed, sheepishly, “I should’ve been up before you guys making you breakfast.”

“That isn’t necessary, but thank you for the sentiment” said Wymack.

Jeremy walked in and took a seat at end of the table. “I was thinking,” he said, “I haven’t taken Jean to Disneyland yet and you guys probably want to do something other than sit around all day, so… feel like a Disney trip?”

Kevin hadn’t cared about Disney isn’t childhood. He was sure that neither Jean or Wymack had ever cared about them, either. Still, he smiled and said, “why not.”

Jeremy’s eyes sparkled in the way they did when he was excited. “Great! I can drive us there. Coach, you must be exhausted.”

Wymack waved a hand dismissively. “You’re too kind, but I’m happy to drive.”

“No, really, it’s not a problem!” Jeremy tried, but Wymack had made up his mind.

“You’ve been generous enough to put up with us for a few days, and you helped us out during finals, and you took Jean in. You’ve done more than enough for one year.”

Half an hour later they were all piling into Wymack’s car. Jean took the front seat, since he was the tallest, so Jeremy and Kevin sat in the back, with Kevin sitting behind the driver’s seat.

Wymack tugged on his seat belt then put the keys in.

The engine kicked into life, and the tape began to play again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZBKFoeDKJo It's The fuckin' Beach Boys, bitch!


	21. Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYkbTyHXwbs

Jeremy threw his arms in the air and cheered as the next song came on.

“Yes!” he cried, and began to quietly sing along.

Usually, it pissed Kevin off when someone sang in the car.

During the few times he’d hitched a ride with Matt in his truck, Matt had turned the radio up to an ear-splitting volume and screamed the lyrics. Kevin would put his fingers in his ears, despite the side-eye he received. Nicky liked singing along to whatever was playing on drives to Columbia, but Andrew had learned to keep the radio off.

Yet Kevin silently willed for Jeremy to sing, even just a little louder. It had been too long since the last time he’d heard Jeremy’s voice; almost two years.

The last time had been before a game, back when Kevin was still a Raven. Jeremy had told him there was a song stuck in his head and he was unable to focus. Then he had begun to sing it. Kevin had no memory of the song, but the sound that came out of Jeremy’s mouth had left _him_ unfocused.

Jeremy caught Kevin’s eye and smiled.

“I can play this,” he said, “on guitar, I mean.”

“I’m sure” Kevin replied in a daze.

Jeremy went back to singing along, and Kevin watched him nod his head to the music, making his hair bounce.

His freckles looked more pronounced now that it was Summer, they looked like someone had flicked a paint brush over his face and body. His skin was warm, not like Kevin’s or Wymack’s, just enough to make him look golden.

Being this close to him, in the backseat of Wymack’s car, felt like going into cardiac arrest.

Kevin forced himself to look away. He stared out of the window, watching the palm trees and cars go by as he dug his fingernails deep into his bicep.

Soon, he had completely tuned out the sounds of the car.

He ran drills in his mind, went through the history of Ireland and replayed the last call he’d had with Thea.

When he felt the skin under his nails go wet, he stopped digging.

_Shit._

He glanced down to inspect the damage. It wasn’t that bad. The cuts were obvious in shape and the blood under his nails incriminated him, but it wasn’t that bad.

He licked his thumb and began to clean his arm.

“What radio station is this?” Jeremy asked, interrupting himself.

“This is a mix-tape I made” Wymack explained.

“Oh!” Jeremy laughed, “you have excellent taste in music, coach.”

Wymack shrugged, and Kevin could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “That’s nice of you to say. It’s just music I listen to on a regular basis or stuff I thought Kevin would like.”

“My mom loves this song. That’s how I know it.”

“Hm. According to Coach Day, all the girls wanted to bang Rick Springfield.”

“The boys, too, I bet” said Jeremy.

Kevin felt his face flush, even though he himself had never entertained the thought of ‘banging’ Rick Springfield, especially since he surely wouldn’t look as good these days.

“I don’t doubt it, Jeremy” said Wymack.

Jean said nothing, but turned to look over at Kevin.

He looked down at Kevin’s arm, then met his eyes again. Kevin tried to hide his work, despite knowing Jean had already seen.

After a beat, Jean turned back to look out at the road.

Kevin kept his eyes on Jean, almost willing Jean to look at him again. There wasn’t any point to it. And yet, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Kevin sighed.

“Doing OK back there, Kev?” Wymack asked.

“Yes” said Kevin.

In truth, he was starting to miss having Wymack to himself in the car.


	22. Waltz of the Flowers - Tchaikovsky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxHkLdQy5f0

Jean said nothing for the entire drive to Disney and didn’t look round at Kevin again.

Wymack had to turn the traffic on for a while before they could go back to the tape.

The next song had no lyrics for Jeremy to sing. It wasn’t a total loss, though.

Kevin had always kept a special place in his heart for ballet music. He wasn’t so much of a fan of ballet, rather an admirer of the talent it took and, above all, he loved the music.

He knew this piece was from The Nutcracker, a Christmas production, but Waltz of the Flowers was a far cry from a Christmas song. It was more suitable for Spring time or a Midsummer ball.

As they pulled into the seemingly never-ending parking lot of Disneyland, Jeremy gave another cheer.

“All those for here” said Wymack, cutting the engine.

They all climbed out and made their way to the entrance.

Jean took Kevin by the wrist as Jeremy paced ahead with Wymack. Kevin didn’t struggle. He let Jean lift his arm up to inspect the nail marks.

“You shouldn’t do this” Jean said.

Kevin opened his mouth to speak, only to have his words die in his throat.

He swallowed.

“…What should I do, then?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Jean, “but not this.”

He traced the cuts gently with the tips of his fingers without breaking eye contact with Kevin. Then, he pulled Kevin by the wrist for a few steps before letting go and following Jeremy and Wymack.

Kevin stayed for a moment, still standing where Jean had left him. He quickly returned to himself, though, and went after the others.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would to get into the park. Not that it didn’t take long, just not as long.

There was an unsurprising amount of families and groups of friends, all bustling and unruly, scattered across the scape of the grounds before them.

Most wore mouse-eared caps, shades and colourful shirts, while waving around cameras and pretzels and sticks of cotton candy. There were groups from other continents like Europe and Asia, and groups from other states in the country. Families had packs of small children who yelled and screamed and ran around their parents’ legs. There were teenaged couples taking pictures of themselves performing various public displays of affection. One old man with a map argued with a woman Kevin could only assume was his wife, while another old couple laughed and held hands as they walked.

Jeremy knelt down while searching through his bag, then pulled out a small case containing glasses with thin brown rims and put them on.

When he caught Kevin watching, he smiled. “I usually wear contacts,” he explained, “some days I just can’t be asked to put them in. I might need to take them off for the rides, but that’s not a problem, I only need them for seeing things long-distance.”

“You look good” Kevin replied before he could stop himself.

Jeremy gaped like a fish and went pink in the cheeks.

Wymack put a hand on Kevin’s should and gave it a squeeze.

“When do you guys want to meet back up for lunch?” he asked.

Kevin blinked. “You’re not coming with us?”

“I figure you’ll want to do your own thing first. You and I can do something later if you want, Kev.”

Kevin didn’t like that idea. Being on his own with Jean and Jeremy… he wasn’t sure he’d survive.

“Maybe around one, for lunch?” Jeremy suggested.

“One it is” said Wymack. He leaned in and muttered to Kevin, “go play with the other kids. It’ll be good for you.”

Kevin clenched his jaw in order to hold back a complaint.

“OK, so,” Jeremy clapped his hands together, “we’ll avoid the big rides for Jean’s sake, but the spinning tea cups should be fine. Also, I can buy us fast-passes, because you can and will que for two hours in this place. We can look at the castle, too! I have a camera. A proper one, not the shitty one where you need to wind it up then don’t see your photos till they’re printed. That sound OK, Jean?”

“Yes, I can cope with that.”

“Great! Let’s go get the passes first!”

Jeremy looked over to Kevin. “You coming?”

Kevin nodded but didn’t move, so Wymack gave him a gentle push in the back.

“Go on,” he said, “go have fun with the other kids. Go on.” He began shooing Kevin with hands. “You can call me if you need anything.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Kevin felt a hand on his arm.

“You OK?” Jeremy asked. “You can go with your da-” he stopped. “With your coach if you want, we won’t take offence.”

Kevin sighed and gave Jeremy a warm smile. “I’m OK. And you can call him my dad… that’s what he is.”

“You’re sure?”

“To both, yes” Kevin reassured him.

“OK” Jeremy said softly, then delicately hooked Kevin’s arm in his and lead him into the park, hooking arms with Jean as well as they went.


End file.
